A 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO   •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON  •    BOMBAY  •    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 


ON  THE 
MAKALOA  MAT 


BY 

JACK  LONDON 

Author  of  "The  Call  of  the  Wild,"  "The 
Sea  Wolf,"  "Adventure,"  etc. 


H3eto  gorfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1919 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1918  AND  1918 
BY  ELIZA  SHEPARD  AND  WILLARD   L.  GROWALL,  EXECUTORS 


COPYRIGHT,  1919 
BY  INTERNATIONAL  MAGAZINE   COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1919 
BY  CHARMIAN  K.  LONDON 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published,    September,    1819 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT i 

THE  BONES  OF  KAHELILI 41 

WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL 78 

SHIN-BONES 106 

THE  WATER  BABY H3 

THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM 160 

THE  KANAKA  SURF  .  185 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

UNLIKE  the  women  of  most  warm  races,  those 
of  Hawaii  age  well  and  nobly.  With  no  pre 
tense  of  make-up  or  cunning  concealment  of  time's  in 
roads,  the  woman  who  sat  under  the  hau  tree  might 
have  been  permitted  as  much  as  fifty  years  by  a 
judge  competent  anywhere  over  the  world  save  in 
Hawaii.  Yet  her  children  and  her  grandchildren, 
and  Roscoe  Scandwell,  who  had  been  her  husband  for 
forty  years,  know  that  she  was  sixty-four  and  would 
be  sixty-five  come  the  next  twenty-second  day  of 
June.  But  she  did  not  look  it,  despite  the  fact  that 
she  thrust  reading  glasses  on  her  nose  as  she  read 
her  magazine  and  took  them  off  when  her  gaze  de 
sired  to  wander  in  the  direction  of  the  half-dozen 
children  playing  on  the  lawn. 

It  was  a  noble  situation  —  noble  as  the  ancient 
hau  tree,  the  size  of  a  house,  where  she  sat  as  if  in  a 
house,  so  spaciously  and  comfortably  houselike  was 
its  shade  furnished;  noble  as  the  lawn  that  stretched 
away  landward,  its  plush  of  green  at  an  appraise 
ment  of  two  hundred  dollars  a  front  foot,  to  a  bung 
alow  equally  dignified,  noble,  and  costly.  Seaward, 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

glimpsed  through  a  fringe  of  hundred-foot  cocoa- 
nut  palms,  was  the  ocean,  beyond  the  reef  a  dark 
blue  that  grew  indigo  blue  to  the  horizon,  within 
the  reef  all  the  silken  gamut  of  jade  and  emerald 
and  tourmaline. 

And  this,  was  but  one  of  the  half-dozen 
houses  belonging  to  Martha  Scandwell.  Her  town 
house,  a  few  miles  away  in  Honolulu,  on  Nuuanu 
Drive,  between  the  first  and  second  showers,  was  a 
palace.  Hosts  of  guests  had  known  the  comfort 
and  joy  of  her  mountain  house  on  Tantalus,  and  of 
her  volcano  house,  her  mauka  (mountainward) 
house,  and  her  makai  (seaward)  house  on  the  big 
island  of  Hawaii.  Yet  this  Waikiki  house  stressed 
no  less  than  the  rest  in  beauty,  in  dignity  and  in 
expensiveness  of  upkeep.  Two  Japanese  yard  boys 
were  trimming  hibiscus,  a  third  was  engaged  ex 
pertly  with  the  long  hedge  of  night-blooming  cereus 
that  was  shortly  expectant  of  unfolding  in  its  mys 
terious  night-bloom.  In  immaculate  ducks,  a  house 
Japanese  brought  out  the  tea  things,  followed  by 
a  Japanese  maid,  pretty  as  a  butterfly  in  the  dis 
tinctive  garb  of  her  race  and  fluttery  a-s  a  butterfly 
to  attend  on  her  mistress.  Another  Japanese  maid, 
an  array  of  Turkish  towels  on  her  arm.,  crossed  the 
lawn  well  to  the  right  in  the  direction  of  the  bath 
houses,  from  which  the  children,  in  swimming  suits, 
were  beginning  to  emerge.  Beyond,  under  the 
palms  at  the  edge  of  the  sea,  two  Chinese  nurse 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  3 

maids,  in  their  pretty  native  costume  of  white  yee- 
shon  and  straight-lined  trousers,  their  black  braids  of 
hair  down  their  backs,  attended  each  on  a  baby  in  a 
perambulator. 

And  all  these  —  servants,  and  nurses,  and  grand 
children  —  were  Martha  Scandwell's.  So  likewise 
was  the  color  of  the  skin  of  the  grandchildren  —  the 
unmistakable  Hawaiian  color,  tinted  beyond  shadow 
of  mistake  by  exposure  to  the  Hawaiian  sun.  One 
eighth  and  one  sixteenth  Hawaiian  were  they,  which 
meant  that  seven  eighths  of  fifteen  sixteenths  white 
blood  informed  that  skin,  yet  failed  to  obliterate  the 
modicum  of  golden  tawny  brown  of  Polynesia.  But 
in  this  again,  only  a  trained  observer  would  have 
known  that  the  frolicking  children  were  aught  but 
pure-blooded  white.  Roscoe  Scandwell,  grand 
father,  was  pure  white;  Martha,  three  quarters 
white;  the  many  sons  and  daughters  of  them  seven 
eighths  white;  the  grandchildren  graded  up  to  fif 
teen  sixteenths  white,  or,  in  the  cases  when  their 
seven  eighths  fathers  and  mothers  had  married 
seven  eighths,  themselves  fourteen  sixteenths  or 
seven  eighths  white.  On  both  sides  the  stock  was 
good,  Roscoe  straight  descended  from  the  New  Eng 
land  Puritans,  Martha  no  less  straight  descended 
from  the  royal  chief  stocks  of  Hawaii  whose  gen 
ealogies  were  chanted  in  meles  a  thousand  years  be 
fore  written  speech  was  acquired. 

In  the  distance  a  machine  stopped  and  deposited 


4  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

a  woman  whose  utmost  years  might  have  been 
guessed  as  sixty,  who  walked  across  the  lawn  as 
lightly  as  a  well-cared-for  woman  of  forty,  and 
whose  actual  calendar  age  was  sixty-eight.  Martha 
rose  to  greet  her  in  the  hearty  Hawaiian  way, 
arms  about,  lips  on  lips,  faces  eloquent  and  bodies 
no  less  eloquent  with  sincereness  and  frank  exces- 
siveness  of  emotion.  And  it  was  "  Sister  Bella," 
and  "  Sister  Martha,"  back  and  forth,  inter 
mingled  with  almost  incoherent  inquiries  about  each 
other,  and  about  Uncle  This  and  Brother  That 
and  Aunt  Some  One  Else,  until,  the  first  tremulous- 
ness  of  meeting  over,  eyes  moist  with  tenderness  of 
love,  they  sat  gazing  at  each  other  across  their  tea 
cups.  Apparently,  'they  had  not  seen  nor  embraced 
for  years.  In  truth,  two  months  marked  the  inter 
val  of  their  separation.  And  one  was  sixty-four,  the 
other  sixty-eight.  But  the  thorough  comprehension 
resided  in  the  fact  that  in  each  of  them  one  fourth 
of  them  was  the  sun-warm,  love-warm  heart  of  Ha 
waii. 

The  children  flooded  about  Aunt  Bella  like  a  ris 
ing  tide  and  were  capaciously  hugged  and  kissed  ere 
they  departed  with  their  nurses  to  the  swimming 
beach. 

u  I  thought  I'd  run  out  to  the  beach  for  several 
days  —  the  trades  had  stopped  blowing,"  Martha 
explained. 

"  You've  been   here   two   weeks   already,"    Bella 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  5 

smiled  fondly  at  her  younger  sister.  "  Brother  Ed 
ward  told  me.  He  met  me  at  the  steamer  and  in 
sisted  on  running  rne  out  first  of  all  to  see  Louise 
and  Dorothy  and  that  first  grandchild  of  his.  He's 
as  mad  as  a  silly  hatter  about  it." 

"  Mercy!"  Martha  exclaimed.  "Two  weeks! 
I  had  not  thought  it  that  long." 

"Where's  Annie?  —  and  Margaret?"  Bella 
asked. 

Martha  shrugged  her  voluminous  shoulders  with 
voluminous  and  forgiving  affection  for  her  wayward, 
matronly  daughters  who  left  their  children  in  her 
care  for  the  afternoon. 

"  Margaret's  at  a  meeting  of  the  Outdoor  Circle 
-  they're  planning  the  planting  of  trees  and  hibis 
cus  all  along  both  sides  of  Kalakaua  Avenue,"  she 
said.  u  And  Annie's  wearing  out  eighty  dollars' 
worth  of  tires  to  collect  seventy-five  dollars  for  the 
British  Red  Cross  —  this  is  their  tag  day,  you 
know." 

"  Roscoe  must  be  very  proud,"  Bella  said,  and 
observed  the  bright  glow  of  pride  that  appeared  in 
her  sister's  eyes.  "  I  got  the  news  in  San  Fran 
cisco  of  Ho-o-la-a's  first  dividend.  Remember  when 
I  put  a  thousand  in  it  at  seventy-five  cents  for  poor 
Abbie's  children,  and  said  I'd  sell  when  it  went  to 
ten  dollars?  " 

"  And  everybody  laughed  at  you,  and  at  anybody 
who  bought  a  share,"  Martha  nodded.  "  But  Ros- 


6  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

coe    knew.      It's    selling    to-day    at    twenty-four." 

"  I  sold  mine  from  the  steamer  by  wireless  —  at 
twenty  even,"  Bella  continued.  "  And  now  Abbie's 
wildly  dressmaking.  She's  going  with  May  and 
Tootsie  to  Paris." 

"  And  Carl?  "  Martha  queried. 

"  Oh,  he'll  finish  Yale  all  right—" 

"  Which  he  would  have  done  anyway,  and  you 
know  it,"  Martha  charged,  lapsing  charmingly  into 
twentieth-century  slang. 

Bella  affirmed  her  guilt  of  intention  of  paying  the 
way  of  her  school  friend's  son  through  college,  and 
added  complacently: 

"  Just  the  same  it  was  nicer  to  have  Ho-o-la-a  pay 
for  it.  In  a  way,  you  see,  Roscoe  is  doing  it,  because 
it  was  his  judgment  I  trusted  to  when  I  made  the 
investment."  She  gazed  slowly  about  her,  her  eyes 
taking  in,  not  merely  the  beauty  and  comfort  and 
repose  of  all  they  rested  on,  but  the  immensity  of 
beauty  and  comfort  and  repose  represented  by  them, 
scattered  in  similar  oases  all  over  the  islands.  She 
sighed  pleasantly  and  observed  :  "  All  our  husbands 
have  done  well  by  us  with  what  we  brought  them." 

"  And  happily  .  .  ."  Martha  agreed,  then  sus 
pended  her  utterance  with  suspicious  abruptness. 

"  And  happily,  all  of  us,  except  Sister  Bella," 
Bella  forgivingly  completed  the  thought  for  her. 

"  It  was  too  bad,  that  marriage,"  Martha  mur 
mured,  all  softness  of  sympathy.  "  You  were  so 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  7 

young.  Uncle  Robert  should  never  have  made 
you." 

"  I  was  only  nineteen,"  Bella  nodded.  u  But  it 
was  not  George  Castner's  fault.  And  look  what  he, 
out  of  the  grave,  has  done  for  me.  Uncle  Robert 
was  wise.  He  knew  George  had  the  far-away 
vision  of  far  ahead,  the  energy,  and  the  steadiness. 
He  saw,  even  then,  and  that's  fifty  years  ago,  the 
value  of  the  Nahala  water  rights  which  nobody  else 
valued  then.  They  thought  he  was  struggling  to 
buy  cattle  range.  He  struggled  to  buy  the  future  of 
the  water  —  and  how  well  he  succeeded,  you  know. 
I'm  almost  ashamed  to  think  of  my  income  some 
times.  No;  whatever  else,  the  unhappiness  of  our 
marriage  was  not  due  to  George.  I  could  have 
lived  happily  with  him,  I  know,  even  to  this  day,  had 
he  lived."  She  shook  her  head  slowly.  uNo;  it 
was  not  his  fault.  Nor  anybody's.  Nor  even  mine. 
If  it  was  anybody's  fault  -  The  wistful  fondness 
of  her  smile  took  the  sting  out  of  what  she  was  about 
to  say.  "  If  it  was  anybody's  fault,  it  was  Uncle 
John's." 

"Uncle  John's!"  Martha  cried  with  sharp  sur 
prise.  "  If  it  had  to  be  one  or  the  other,  I  should 
have  said  Uncle  Robert.  But  Uncle  John!  " 

Bella  smiled  with  slow  positiveness. 

"  But  it  was  Uncle  Robert  who  made  you  marry 
George  Castner,"  her  sister  urged. 

"  That    is    true,"    Bella    nodded    corroboration. 


8  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  But  it  was  not  the  matter  of  a  husband,  but  of  a 
horse.  I  wanted  to  borrow  a  horse  from  Uncle 
John,  and  Uncle  John  said  yes.  That  is  how  it  all 
happened." 

A  silence  fell,  pregnant  and  cryptic,  and,  while 
the  voices  of  the  children  and  the  soft  mandatory 
protests  of  the  Asiatic  maids  drew  nearer  from  the 
beach,  Martha  Scandwell  felt  herself  vibrant  and 
tremulous  with  sudden  resolve  of  daring.  She 
waved  the  children  away. 

"  Run  along,  dears,  run  along.  Grandma  and 
Aunt  Bella  want  to  talk." 

And  as  the  shrill,  sweet  treble  of  child  voices 
ebbed  away  across  the  lawn  Martha,  with  scrutiny 
of  the  heart,  observed  the  sadness  of  the  lines  graven 
by  secret  woe  for  half  a  century  in  her  sister's  face. 
For  nearly  fifty  years  had  she  watched  those  lines. 
She  steeled  all  the  melting  softness  of  the  Hawaiian 
of  her  to  break  the  half  century  of  s:]  ice.f 

44  Bella,"  she  said.  "We  never  knew.  You 
never  spoke.  But  we  wondered,  oh,  often  ai  ^ 
often  — " 

"  And  never  asked,"  Bella  murmured  gratefully. 

"  But  I  am  asking  now,  at  the  last.  This  is  our 
twilight.  Listen  to  them!  Sometimes  it  almost 
frightens  me  to  think  that  they  are  grandchildren, 
my  grandchildren  —  /,  who  only  the  other  day,  it 
would  seem,  was  as  heart-free,  leg-free,  care-free  a 
girl  as  ever  bestrode  a  horse,  or  swam  in  the  big 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  9 

surf,  or  gathered  opihis  at  low  tide,  or  laughed  at  a 
dozen  lovers.  And  here  in  our  twilight  let  us  for 
get  everything  save  that  I  am  your  dear  sister  as  you 
are  mine." 

The  eyes  of  both  were  dewy  moist.  Bella  pal 
pably  trembled  to  utterance. 

u  We  thought  it  was  George  Castner,"  Martha 
went  on;  "  and  we  could  guess  the  details.  He  was 
a  cold  man.  You  were  warm  Hawaiian.  He  must 
have  been  cruel.  Brother  Walcott  always  insisted 
he  must  have  beaten  you  — " 

"  No  !  No  !  "  Bella  broke  in.  "  George  Castner 
was  never  a  brute,  a  beast.  Almost  have  I  wished, 
often,  that  he  had  been.  He  never  laid  hand  on 
me.  He  never  raised  hand  to  me.  He  never  raised 
his  voice  to  me.  Never  —  oh,  can  you  believe  it?  — 
do,  please,  sister,  believe  it  —  did  we  have  a  high 
word  nor  a  cross  word.  But  that  house  of  his,  of 
ours,  at  Nunai-^was  gray.  All  the  color  of  it  was 
£ray  ana  cooi  and  chill  while  I  was  bright  with 
.r>p  colors  of  sun  and  earth  and  blood  and  birth. 
It  was  very  cold,  gray  cold,  with  that  cold  gray  hus 
band  of  mine  at  Nahala. —  You  know  he  was  gray, 
Martha.  Gray  like  those  portraits  of  Emerson  we 
used  to  see  at  school.  His  skin  was  gray.  Sun  and 
weather  and  all  hours  in  the  saddle  could  never  tan 
it.  And  he  was  as  gray  inside  as  out. 

"  And  I  was  only  nineteen,  when  Uncle  Robert 
decided  on  the  marriage.  How  was  I  to  know? 


io  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Uncle  Robert  talked  to  me.  He  pointed  out  how 
the  wealth  and  property  of  Hawaii  was  already  be 
ginning  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  the  haoles " 
(whites).  "  The  Hawaiian  chiefs  let  their  posses 
sions  slip  away  from  them.  The  Hawaiian  chief- 
esses  who  married  haoles  had  their  possessions,  un 
der  the  management  of  their  haole  husbands,  in 
crease  prodigiously.  He  pointed  back  to  the  orig 
inal  Grandfather  Roger  Wilton,  who  had  taken 
Grandmother  Wilton's  poor  mauka  lands  and  added 
to  them  and  built  up  about  them  the  Kilohana 
Ranch  — " 

"  Even  then   it  was  second  only  to   the   Parker 
Ranch,"  Martha  interrupted  proudly. 

-  And  he  told  me  that  had  our  father,  before  he 
died,  been  as  farseeing  as  grandfather,  half  the 
then  Parker  holdings  would  have  been  added  to 
Kilohana,  making  Kilohana  first.  And  he  said  that 
never,  forever  and  ever,  would  beef  be  cheaper. 
And  he  said  that  the  big  future  of  Hawaii  would 
be  in  sugar.  That  was  fifty  years  ago,  and  he  has 
been  more  than  proved  right.  And  he  said  that 
the  young  haole,  George  Castner,  saw  far  and  would 
go  far,  and  that  there  were  many  girls  of  us,  and 
that  the  Kilohana  lands  ought  by  rights  to  go  to  the 
boys,  and  that  if  I  married  George  my  future  was 
assured  in  the  biggest  way. 

'  I  was  only  nineteen.     Just  back  from  the  Royal 
Chief  School  —  that  was  before  our  girls  went  to 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  n 

the  States  for  their  educations.  You  were  among 
the  first,  Sister  Martha,  who  got  their  education  on 
the  mainland.  And  what  did  I  know  of  love  and 
lovers,  much  less  of  marriage?  All  women  mar 
ried.  It  was  their  business  in  life.  Mother  and 
grandmother,  all  the  way  back  they  had  married. 
It  was  my  business  in  life  to  marry  George  Cast- 
ner.  Uncle  Robert  said  so  in  his  wisdom,  and  I 
knew  he  was  very  wise.  And  I  went  to  live  with 
my  husband  in  the  gray  house  at  Nahala. 

"  You  remember  it.  No  trees,  only  the  rolling 
grass  lands,  the  high  mountains  behind,  the  sea  be 
neath,  and  the  wind !  —  the  Waimea  and  Nahala 
winds,  we  got  them  both,  and  the  kona  wind  as 
well.  Yet  little  would  I  have  minded  them,  any 
more  than  we  minded  them  at  Kilohana,  or  than 
they  minded  them  at  Mana,  had  not  Nahala  itself 
been  so  gray,  and  husband  George  so  gray.  We 
were  alone.  He  was  managing  Nahala  for  the 
Glenns,  who  had  gone  back  to  Scotland.  Eighteen 
hundred  a  year,  plus  beef,  horses,  cowboy  service, 
and  the  ranch  house,  was  what  he  received — " 

"  It  wras  a  high  salary  in  those  days,"  Martha 
said. 

"  And  for  George  Castner,  and  the  service  he 
gave,  it  was  very  cheap,"  Bella  defended.  "  I  lived 
with  him  for  three  years.  There  was  never  a  morn 
ing  that  he  was  out  of  his  bed  later  than  half-past 
four.  He  was  the  soul  of  devotion  to  his  cm- 


12  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

ployers.  Honest  to  a  penny  in  his  accounts,  he 
gave  them  full  measure  and  more  of  his  time  and 
energy.  Perhaps  that  was  what  helped  make  our 
life  so  gray.  But  listen,  Martha.  Out  of  his  eigh 
teen  hundred,  he  laid  aside  sixteen  hundred  each 
year.  Think  of  it!  The  two  of  us  lived  on  two 
hundred  a  year.  Luckily  he  did  not  drink  or  smoke. 
Also,  we  dressed  out  of  it  as  well.  I  made  my  own 
dresses.  You  can  imagine  them.  Outside  of  the 
cowboys  who  chored  the  firewood,  I  did  the  work. 
I  cooked  and  baked  and  scrubbed — " 

'  You  who  had  never  known  anything  but  serv 
ants  from  the  time  you  were  born!  "  Martha  pitied. 
"  Never  less  than  a  regiment  of  them  at  Kilohana." 

"  Oh,  but  it  was  the  bare,  naked,  pinching  meager- 
ness  of  it!"  Bella  cried  out.  "How  far  I  was 
compelled  to  make  a  pound  of  coffee  go !  A  broom 
worn  down  to  nothing  before  a  new  one  was  bought! 
And  beef!  French  beef  and  jerky,  morning,  noon, 
and  night!  And  porridge!  Never  since  have  I 
eaten  porridge  or  any  breakfast  food." 

She  arose  suddenly  and  walked  a  dozen  steps 
away  to  gaze  a  moment  with  unseeing  eyes  at  the 
color-lavish  reef  while  she  composed  herself.  And 
she  returned  to  her  seat  with  the  splendid,  sure,  gra 
cious,  high-breasted,  noble-headed  port  of  which  no 
outbreeding  can  ever  rob  the  Hawaiian  woman. 
Very  haole  was  Bella  Castner,  fair-skinned,  fine- 
textured.  Yet,  as  she  returned,  the  high  pose  of 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  13 

head,  the  level-lidded  gaze  of  her  long  brown  eyes 
under  royal  arches  of  eyebrows,  the  softly  set  lines 
of  her  small  mouth  that  fairly  sang  sweetness  of 
kisses  after  sixty-eight  years  —  all  made  her  the 
very  picture  of  a  chiefess  of  old  Hawaii  full-bursting 
through  her  ampleness  of  haole  blood.  Taller  she 
was  than  her  sister  Martha,  if  anything  more 
queenly. 

"  You  know  we  were  notorious  as  poor  feeders," 
Bella  laughed  lightly  enough.  "  It  was  many  a  mile 
on  either  side  from  Nahala  to  the  next  roof.  Be 
lated  travelers,  or  storm-bound  ones,  would,  on  oc 
casion,  stop  with  us  overnight.  And  you  know  the 
lavishness  of  the  big  ranches,  then  and  now.  How 
we  were  the  laughing-stock !  '  What  do  we  care  ?  ' 
George  would  say.  '  They  live  to-day  and  now. 
Twenty  years  from  now  will  be  our  turn,  Bella. 
They  will  be  where  they  are  now,  and  they  will 
eat  out  of  our  hand.  We  will  be  compelled  to  feed 
them,  they  will  need  to  be  fed,  and  we  will  feed 
them  well;  for  we  will  be  rich,  Bella,  so  rich  that  I 
am  afraid  to  tell  you.  But  I  know  what  I  know, 
and  you  must  have  faith  in  me.' 

"  George  was  right.  Twenty  years  afterward, 
though  he  did  not  live  to  see  it,  my  income  was  a 
thousand  a  month.  Goodness !  I  do  not  know 
what  it  is  to-day.  But  I  was  only  nineteen,  and  I 
would  say  to  George :  4  Now !  now !  We  live  now. 
We  may  not  be  alive  twenty  years  from  now.  I  do 


i4  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

want  a  new  broom.  And  there  is  a  third-rate  coffee 
that  is  only  two  cents  a  pound  more  than  the  awful 
stuff  we  are  using.  Why  couldn't  I  fry  eggs  in  but 
ter —  now?  I  should  dearly  love  at  least  one  new 
tablecloth.  Our  linen!  I'm  ashamed  to  put  a 
guest  between  the  sheets,  though  Heaven  knows  they 
dare  come  seldom  enough.' 

"  '  Be  patient,  Bella,'  he  would  reply.  '  In  a  lit 
tle  while,  in  only  a  few  years,  those  that  scorn  to 
sit  at  our  table  now  or  sleep  between  our  sheets 
will  be  proud  of  an  invitation  —  those  of  them  who 
will  not  be  dead.  You  remember  how  Stevens 
passed  out  last  year  —  free  living  and  easy,  every 
body's  friend  but  his  own.  The  Kohala  crowd  had 
to  bury  him,  for  he  left  nothing  but  debts.  Watch 
the  others  going  the  same  pace.  There's  your 
brother  Hal.  He  can't  keep  it  up  and  live  five 
years,  and  he's  breaking  his  uncles'  hearts.  And 
there's  Prince  Lilolilo.  Dashes  by  me  with  half 
a  hundred  mounted,  able-bodied,  roystering  Kana 
kas  in  his  train  who  would  be  better  at  hard  work 
and  looking  after  their  futures,  for  he  will  never 
be  King  of  Hawaii.  He  will  not  live  to  be  King 
of  Hawaii.' 

"  George  was  right.  Brother  Hal  died.  So  did 
Prince  Lilolilo.  But  George  was  not  all  right.  He, 
who  neither  drank  nor  smoked,  who  never  wasted 
the  weight  of  his  arms  in  an  embrace,  nor  the  touch 
of  his  lips  a  second  longer  than  the  most  perfunc- 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  15 

tory  of  kisses,  who  was  invariably  up  before  cock 
crow  and  asleep  ere  the  kerosene  lamp  had  a  tenth 
emptied  itself,  and  who  never  thought  to  die,  was 
dead  even  more  quickly  than  Brother  Hal  and  Prince 
Lilolilo. 

u  '  Be  patient,  Bella,'  Uncle  Robert  would  say  to 
me.  '  George  Castner  is  a  coming  man.  I  have 
chosen  well  for  you.  Your  hardships  now  are  the 
hardships  on  the  way  to  the  promised  land.  Not 
always  will  the  Hawaiians  rule  in  Hawaii.  Just  as 
they  let  their  wealth  slip  out  of  their  hands,  so  will 
their  rule  slip  out  of  their  hands.  Political  power 
and  the  land  always  go  together.  There  will  be 
great  changes,  revolutions  no  one  knows  how  many 
nor  of  what  sort,  save  that  in  the  end  the  haole  will 
possess  the  land  and  the  rule.  And  in  that  day 
you  may  well  be  first  lady  of  Hawaii,  just  as  surely 
as  George  Castner  will  be  ruler  of  Hawaii.  It  is 
written  in  the  books.  It  is  ever  so  where  the  haole 
conflicts  with  the  easier  races.  I,  your  Uncle  Rob- 
bert,  who  am  half  Hawaiian  and  half  haole,  know 
whereof  I  speak.  Be  patient,  Bella,  be  patient.' 

"  '  Dear  Bella,'  Uncle  John  would  say;  and  I  knew 
his  heart  was  tender  for  me.  Thank  God,  he  never 
told  me  to  be  patient.  He  knew.  He  was  very 
wise.  He  was  warm  human,  and,  therefore,  wiser 
than  Uncle  Robert  and  George  Castner,  who  sought 
the  thing,  not  the  spirit,  who  kept  records  in  ledgers 
rather  than  numbered  heartbeats  breast  to  breast, 


1 6  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

who  added  columns  of  figures  rather  than  remem 
bered  embraces  and  endearments  of  look  and  speech 
and  touch.  '  Dear  Bella,'  Uncle  John  would  say. 
He  knew.  You  have  heard  always  how  he  was  the 
lover  of  the  Princess  Naomi.  He  was  a  true  lover. 
He  loved  but  the  once.  After  her  death  they  said, 
he  was  eccentric.  He  was.  He  was  the  one  lover, 
once  and  always.  Remember  that  taboo  inner  room 
of  his  at  Kilohana  that  we  entered  only  after  his 
death  and  found  it  his  shrine  to  her.  '  Dear  Bella,' 
it  was  all  he  ever  said  to  me,  but  I  knew  he  knew. 
"  And  I  was  nineteen,  and  sun-warm  Hawaiian  in 
spite  of  my  three  quarters  haole  blood,  and  I  knew 
nothing  save  my  girlhood  splendors  at  Kilohana  and 
my  Honolulu  education  at  the  Royal  Chief  School, 
and  my  gray  husband  at  Nahala  with  his  gray 
preachments  and  practices  of  sobriety  and  thrift,  and 
those  two  childless  uncles  of  mine,  the  one  with  far 
cold  vision,  the  other  the  broken-hearted,  forever- 
dreaming  lover  of  a  dead  princess. 

'  Think  of  that  gray  house !  I,  who  had  known 
the  ease  and  the  delights  and  the  ever-laughing  joys 
of  Kilohana,  and  of  the  Parkers  at  old  Mana,  and 
of  Puuwaawaa !  You  remember.  We  did  live  in 
feudal  spaciousness  in  those  days.  Would  you,  can 
you,  believe  it,  Martha?  —  at  Nahala  the  only  sew 
ing  machine  I  had  was  one  of  those  the  early  mis 
sionaries  brought,  a  tiny,  crazy  thing  that  one 
cranked  around  by  hand! 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  17 

"  Robert  and  John  had  each  given  Husband 
George  five  thousand  dollars  at  my  marriage.  But 
he  had  asked  for  it  to  be  kept  secret.  Only  the 
four  of  us  knew.  And  while  I  sewed  my  cheap 
holokus  on  that  crazy  machine,  he  bought  land  with 
the  money  —  the  upper  Nahala  lands,  you  know  — 
a  bit  at  a  time,  each  purchase  a  hard-driven  bar 
gain,  his  face  the  very  face  of  poverty.  To-day  the 
Nahala  Ditch  alone  pays  me  forty  thousand  a  year. 

"  But  was  it  worth  it?  I  starved.  If  only  once, 
madly,  he  had  crushed  me  in  his  arms!  If  only 
once,  he  could  have  lingered  with  me  five  minutes 
from  his  own  business  or  from  his  fidelity  to  his 
employers !  Sometimes  I  could  have  screamed,  or 
showered  the  eternal  bowl  of  hot  porridge  into  his 
face,  or  smashed  the  sewing  machine  upon  the  floor 
and  danced  a  hula  on  it,  just  to  make  him  burst 
out  and  lose  his  temper  and  be  human,  be  a  brute, 
be  a  man  of  some  sort  instead  of  a  gray,  frozen 
demigod." 

Bella's  tragic  expression  vanished,  and  she  laughed 
outright  in  sheer  genuineness  of  mirthful  recollec 
tion. 

"  And  when  I  was  in  such  moods  he  would  gravely 
look  me  over,  gravely  feel  my  pulse,  examine  my 
tongue,  gravely  dose  me  with  castor  oil,  and  gravely 
put  me  to  bed  early  with  hot  stove  lids  and  assure 
me  that  I'd  feel  better  in  the  morning.  Early  to 
bed!  Our  wildest  sitting  up  was  nine  o'clock. 


1 8  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Eight  o'clock  was  our  regular  bedtime.  It  saved 
kerosene.  We  did  not  eat  dinner  at  Nahala -- re 
member  the  great  table  at  Kilohana  where  we  did 
have  dinner?  But  Husband  George  and  I  had 
supper.  And  then  he  would  sit  close  to  the  lamp  on 
one  side  the  table  and  read  old  borrowed  magazines 
for  an  hour,  while  I  sat  on  the  other  side  and  darned 
his  socks  and  underclothing.  He  always  wore  such 
cheap,  shoddy  stuff.  And  when  he  went  to  bed,  I 
went  to  bed.  No  wastage  of  kerosene  with  only 
one  to  benefit  by  it.  And  he  went  to  bed  always 
the  same  way,  winding  up  his  watch,  entering  the 
day's  weather  in  his  diary,  and  taking  off  his  shoes, 
right  foot  first  invariably,  left  foot  second,  and  plac 
ing  them  just  so,  side  by  side,  on  the  floor,  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  on  his  side. 

u  He  was  the  cleanest  man  I  ever  knew.  He 
never  wore  the  same  undergarment  a  second  time. 
I  did  the  washing.  He  was  so  clean  it  hurt.  He 
shaved  twice  a  day.  He  used  more  water  on  his 
body  than  any  Kanaka.  He  did  more  work  than 
any  two  haoles.  And  he  saw  the  future  of  the 
Nahala  water." 

"  And  he  made  you  wealthy,  but  did  not  make 
you  happy,"  Martha  observed. 

Bella  sighed  and  nodded. 

"  What  is  wealth,  after  all,  Sister  Martha?  My 
new  Fierce-Arrow  came  down  on  the  steamer  with 
me.  My  third  in  two  years.  But  oh,  all  the  Pierce- 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  19 

Arrows  and  all  the  incomes  in  the  world  compared 
with  a  lover !  —  the  one  lover,  the  one  mate,  to  be 
married  to,  to  toil  beside  and  suffer  and  joy  be 
side,  the  one  male  man  lover  husband  — 

Her  voice  trailed  off,  and  the  sisters  sat  in  soft 
silence  while  an  ancient  crone,  staff  in  hand,  twisted, 
doubled,  and  shrunken  under  an  hundred  years  of 
living,  hobbled  across  the  lawn  to  them.  Her  eyes, 
withered  to  scarcely  more  than  peepholes,  were  sharp 
as  a  mongoose's,  and  at  Bella's  feet  she  first  sank 
down,  in  pure  Hawaiian  mumbling  and  chanting  a 
toothless  mele  of  Bella  and  Bella's  ancestry  and  add 
ing  to  it  an  extemporized  welcome  back  to  Hawaii 
after  her  absence  across  the  great  sea  to  California. 
And  while  she  chanted  her  mele,  the  old  crone's 
shrewd  fingers  lomied  or  massaged  Bella's  silk-stock 
inged  legs  from  ankle  and  calf  to  knee  and  thigh. 

Both  Bella's  and  Martha's  eyes  were  luminous- 
moist,  as  the  old  retainer  repeated  the  lomi  and  the 
mele  to  Martha,  and  as  they  talked  with  her  in  the 
ancient  tongue  and  asked  the  immemorial  questions 
about  her  health  and  age  and  great-great-grand 
children  —  she,  who  had  lomied  them  as  babies  in 
the  great  house  at  Kilohana,  as  her  ancestresses  had 
lomied  their  ancestresses  back  through  the  unnum 
bered  generations.  The  brief  duty  visit  over,  Mar 
tha  arose  and  accompanied  her  back  to  the  bunga 
low,  putting  money  into  her  hand,  commanding 
proud  and  beautiful  Japanese  housemaids  to  wait 


20  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

upon  the  dilapidated  aborigine  with  'poi,  which  is 
compounded  of  the  roots  of  the  water  lily,  with 
iamaka,  which  is  raw  fish,  and  with  pounded  kukni 
nut  and  Umu,  which  latter  is  seaweed  tender  to  the 
toothless,  digestible  and  savory.  It  was  the  old 
feudal  tie,  the  faithfulness  of  the  commoner  to  the 
chief,  the  responsibility  of  the  chief  to  the  com 
moner;  and  Martha,  three  quarters  haole  with  the 
Anglo-Saxon  blood  of  New  England,  was  four  quar 
ters  Hawaiian  in  her  remembrance  and  observance 
of  the  well-nigh  vanished  customs  of  old  days. 

As  she  came  back  across  the  lawn  to  the  hau  tree, 
Bella's  eyes  dwelt  upon  the  moving  authenticity  of 
her  and  of  the  blood  of  her,  and  embraced  her  and 
loved  her.  Shorter  than  Bella  was  Martha  a  trifle, 
but  the  merest  trifle,  less  queenly  of  port;  but  beau 
tifully  and  generously  proportioned,  mellowed 
rather  than  dismantled  by  years,  her  Polynesian 
chiefess  figure  eloquent  and  glorious  under  the  sat 
isfying  lines  of  a  half-fitting,  grandly  sweeping,  black 
silk  holoku  trimmed  with  black  lace  more  costly  than 
a  Paris  gown. 

And  as  both  sisters  resumed  their  talk,  an  observer 
would  have  noted  the  striking  resemblance  of  their 
pure,  straight  profiles,  of  their  broad  cheek  bones, 
of  their  wide  and  loftly  foreheads,  of  their  iron-gray 
abundance  of  hair,  of  their  sweet-lipped  mouths  set 
with  the  carriage  of  decades  of  assured  and  accom 
plished  pride,  and  of  their  lovely,  slender  eyebrows 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  21 

arched  over  equally  lovely  long  brown  eyes.  The 
hands  of  both  of  them,  little  altered  or  defaced  by 
age,  were  wonderful  in  their  slender,  tapering  finger 
tips,  love-lomi'd  and  love-formed  while  they  were 
babies  by  old  Hawaiian  women  like  to  the  one  even 
then  eating  poi  and  iamaka  and  limu  in  the  house. 

"  I  had  a  year  of  it,"  Bella  resumed,  "  and,  do  you 
know,  things  were  beginning  to  come  right.  I  was 
beginning  to  draw  to  Husband  George.  Women 
are  so  made.  I  was  such  a  woman  at  any  rate.  For 
he  was  good.  He  was  just.  All  the  old  sterling 
Puritan  virtues  were  his.  I  was  coming  to  draw  to 
him,  to  like  him,  almost,  might  I  say,  to 
love  him.  And  had  not  Uncle  John  loaned  me  that 
horse,  I  know  that  I  would  have  truly  loved  him  and 
have  lived  ever  happily  with  him  —  in  a  quiet  sort  of 
way,  of  course. 

'  You  see,  I  knew  nothing  else,  nothing  different, 
nothing  better  in  the  way  of  man.  I  came  gladly  to 
look  across  the  table  at  him  while  he  read  in  the 
brief  interval  between  supper  and  bed,  gladly  to 
listen  for  and  to  catch  the  beat  of  his  horse's  hoofs 
coming  home  at  night  from  his  endless  riding  over 
the  ranch.  And  his  scant  praise  was  praise  indeed, 
that  made  me  tingle  with  happiness  —  yes,  Sister 
Martha,  I  knew  what  it  was  to  blush  under  his  pre 
cise,  just  praise  for  the  things  I  had  done  right  or 
correctly. 

"  And  all  would  have  been  well  for  the  rest  of  our 


22  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

lives  together,  except  that  he  had  to  take  steamer  to 
Honolulu.  It  was  business.  He  was  to  be  gone 
two  weeks  or  longer,  first,  for  the  Glenns  in  ranch 
affairs,  and,  next,  for  himself,  to  arrange  the  pur 
chase  of  still  more  of  the  upper  Nahala  lands.  Do 
you  know,  he  bought  lots  of  the  wilder  and  up-and- 
down  lands,  worthless  for  aught  save  water,  and 
the  very  heart  of  the  watershed,  for  as  low  as  five 
and  ten  cents  an  acre.  And  he  suggested  I  needed 
a  change.  I  wanted  to  go  with  him  to  Honolulu. 
But,  with  an  eye  to  expense,  he  decided  Kilohana  for 
me.  Not  only  would  it  cost  him  nothing  for  me  to 
visit  at  the  old  home,  but  he  saved  the  price  of  the 
poor  food  I  should  have  eaten  had  I  remained  alone 
at  Nahala,  which  meant  the  purchase  price  of  more 
Nahala  acreage.  And  at  Kilohana  Uncle  John  said 
yes,  and  loaned  me  the  horse. 

"  Oh,  it  was  like  heaven,  getting  back  those  first 
several  days.  It  was  difficult  to  believe  at  first  that 
there  was  so  much  food  in  all  the  world.  The  enor 
mous  wastage  of  the  kitchen  appalled  me.  I  saw 
waste  everywhere,  so  well  trained  had  I  been  by 
Husband  George.  Why,  out  in  the  servants'  quar 
ters  the  aged  relatives  and  most  distant  hangers-on 
of  the  servants  fed  better  than  George  and  I  ever 
fed.  You  remember  our  Kilohana  way,  same  as  the 
Parker  way,  a  bullock  killed  for  every  meal,  fresh 
fish  by  runners  from  the  ponds  of  Waipio  and  Ki- 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  23 

holo,  and  the  best  and  rarest  at  all  times  of  every 
thing.  .  .  . 

u  And  love,  our  family  way  of  loving !  You  know 
what  Uncle  John  was.  And  Brother  Walcott  was 
there,  and  Brother  Edward,  and  all  the  younger 
sisters  save  you  and  Sally  away  at  school.  And 
Aunt  Elizabeth,  and  Aunt  Janet  with  her  husband 
and  all  her  children,  on  a  visit.  It  was  arms  around, 
and  perpetual  endearings,  and  all  that  I  had  missed 
for  a  weary  twelve-month.  I  was  thirsty  for  it.  I 
was  like  a  survivor  from  the  open  boat  falling  down 
on  the  sand  and  lapping  the  fresh,  bubbling  springs 
at  the  roots  of  the  palms. 

"  And  they  came,  riding  up  from  Kawaihae,  where 
they  had  landed  from  the  royal  yacht,  the  whole 
glorious  cavalcade  of  them,  two  by  two,  flower-gar 
landed,  young  and  happy,  gay,  on  Parker  Ranch 
horses,  thirty  of  them  in  the  party,  a  hundred  Parker 
Ranch  cowboys  and  as  many  more  of  their  own  re 
tainers  —  a  royal  progress.  It  was  Princess  Lihue's 
progress,  of  course,  she  flaming  and  passing  as  we 
all  knew  with  the  dreadful  tuberculosis;  but  with 
her  were  her  nephews,  Prince  Lilolilo,  hailed  every 
where  as  the  next  king,  and  his  brothers,  Prince 
Kahekili  and  Prince  Kamalau.  And  with  the  Prin 
cess  was  Ella  Higginsworth,  who  rightly  claimed 
higher  chief  blood  lines  through  the  Kauai  descent 
than  belonged  to  the  reigning  family,  and  Dora 


24  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Niles,  and  Emily  Lowcroft,  and  —  oh,  why  enum 
erate  them  all!  Ella  Higginsworth  and  I  had  been 
roommates  at  the  Royal  Chief  School.  And  there 
was  a  great  resting  time  for  an  hour  —  no  luau, 
for  the  luau  waited  them  at  the  Parkers' —  but  beer 
and  stronger  drinks  for  the  men,  and  lemonade,  and 
oranges,  and  refreshing  watermelon  for  the  women. 

"  And  it  was  arms  around  with  Ella  Higginsworth 
and  me,  and  the  Princess,  who  remembered  me,  and 
all  the  other  girls  and  women,  and  Ella  spoke  to 
the  Princess,  and  the  Princess  herself  invited  me  to 
the  progress,  joining  them  at  Mana  whence  they 
would  depart  two  days  later.  And  I  was  mad,  mad 
with  it  all  —  I,  from  a  twelvemonth  of  imprison 
ment  at  gray  Nahala.  And  I  was  nineteen  yet,  just 
turning  twenty  within  the  week. 

"  Oh,  I  had  no  thought  of  what  was  to  happen. 
So  occupied  was  I  with  the  women  that  I  did  not 
see  Lilolilo,  except  at  a  distance,  bulking  large  and 
tall  above  the  other  men.  But  I  had  never  been  on 
a  progress.  I  had  seen  them  entertained  at  Kilo- 
hana  and  Mana,  but  I  had  been  too  young  to  be 
invited  along,  and  after  that  it  had  been  school  and 
marriage.  I  knew  what  it  would  be  like  —  two 
weeks  of  paradise,  and  little  enough  for  another 
twelvemonths  at  Nahala. 

"  And  I  asked  Uncle  John  to  lend  me  a  horse, 
which  meant  three  horses,  of  course  —  one  mounted 
cowboy  and  a  pack  horse  to  accompany  me.  No 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  25 

roads  then.  No  automobiles.  And  the  horse  for 
myself!  It  was  Hilo.  You  don't  remember  him. 
You  were  away  at  school,  then,  and  before  you  came 
home,  the  following  year,  he'd  broken  his  back  and 
his  rider's  neck  wild-cattle-roping  up  Mauna  Kea. 
You  heard  about  it  —  that  young  American  naval  of 
ficer." 

"  Lieutenant  Bowsfield,"  Martha  nodded. 

"  But  Hilo !  I  was  the  first  woman  on  his  back. 
He  was  a  three-year-old,  almost  a  four-year,  and 
just  broken.  So  black  and  in  such  vigor  of  coat 
that  the  high  lights  on  him  clad  him  in  shimmering 
silver.  He  was  the  biggest  riding  animal  on  the 
ranch,  descended  from  the  King's  Sparklingdew  with 
a  range  mare  for  dam,  and  roped  wild  only  weeks 
before.  I  never  have  seen  so  beautiful  a  horse. 
He  had  the  round,  deep-chested,  big-hearted,  well- 
coupled  body  of  the  ideal  mountain  pony,  and  his 
head  and  neck  were  true  thoroughbred,  slender,  yet 
full,  with  lovely  alert  ears  not  too  small  to  be  vicious 
nor  too  large  to  be  stubborn  mulish.  And  his  legs 
and  feet  were  lovely,  too,  unblemished,  sure  and 
firm,  with  long  springy  pasterns  that  made  him  a 
wonder  of  ease  under  the  saddle." 

"  I  remember  hearing  Prince  Lilolilo  tell  Uncle 
John  that  you  were  the  best  woman  rider  in  all 
Hawaii,"  Martha  interrupted  to  say.  "  That  was 
two  years  afterward  when  I  was  back  from  school 
and  while  you  were  still  living  at  Nahala." 


26  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  Lilolilo  said  that!"  Bella  cried.  Almost  as 
with  a  blush,  her  long  brown  eyes  were  illumined,  as 
she  bridged  the  years  to  her  lover  near  half  a  cen 
tury  dead  and  dust.  With  the  gentleness  of  mod 
esty  so  innate  in  the  women  of  Hawaii,  she  covered 
her  spontaneous  exposure  of  her  heart  with  added 
panegyric  of  Hilo. 

"  Oh,  when  he  ran  with  me  up  the  long-grass 
slopes,  and  down  the  long-grass  slopes,  it  was  like 
hurdling  in  a  dream,  for  he  cleared  the  grass  at 
every  bound,  leaping  like  a  deer,  a  rabbit,  or  a  fox 
terrier  —  you  know  how  they  do.  And  cut  up,  and 
prance,  and  high  life !  He  was  a  mount  for  a  gen 
eral,  for  a  Napoleon  or  a  Kitchener.  And  he  had, 
not  a  wicked  eye,  but,  oh,  such  a  roguish  eye,  in 
telligent  and  looking  as  if  it  cherished  a  joke  be 
hind  and  wanted  to  laugh  or  to  perpetrate  it.  And 
I  asked  Uncle  John  for  Hilo.  And  Uncle  John 
looked  at  me,  and  I  looked  at  him;  and,  though  he 
did  not  say  it,  I  knew  he  was  feeling  '  Dear  Bella,' 
and  I  knew,  somewhere  in  his  seeing  of  me,  was  all 
his  vision  of  the  Princess  Naomi.  And  Uncle  John 
said  yes.  That  is  how  it  happened. 

"But  he  insisted  that  I  should  try  Hilo  out  — 
myself,  rather  —  at  private  rehearsal.  He  was  a 
handful,  a  glorious  handful.  But  not  vicious,  not 
malicious.  He  got  away  from  me  over  and  over 
again,  but  I  never  let  him  know.  I  was  not  afraid, 
and  that  helped  me  keep  always  a  feel  of  him  that 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  27 

prevented  him  from  thinking  that  he  was  even  a 
jump  ahead  of  me. 

"  I  have  often  wondered  if  Uncle  John  dreamed 
of  what  possibly  might  happen.  I  know  I  had  no 
thought  of  it  myself,  that  day  I  rode  across  and 
joined  the  Princess  at  Mana.  Never  was  there  such 
festal  time.  You  know  the  grand  way  the  old  Park 
ers  had  of  entertaining.  The  pigsticking  and  wild- 
cattle  shooting,  the  horse-breaking  and  the  brand 
ing.  The  servants'  quarters  overflowing.  Parker 
cowboys  in  from  everywhere.  And  all  the  girls 
from  Waimea  up,  and  the  girls  from  Waipio,  and 
Honokaa,  and  Paauilo  —  I  can  see  them  yet,  sitting 
in  long  rows  on  top  the  stone  walls  of  the  breaking 
pen  and  making  le'is  (flower  garlands)  for  their  cow 
boy  lovers.  And  the  nights,  the  perfumed  nights, 
the  chanting  of  the  meles  and  the  dancing  of  the 
hulas,  and  the  big  Mana  grounds  with  lovers  every 
where  strolling  two  by  two  under  the  trees. 

"  And  the  Prince  .  .  ."  Bella  paused,  and  for  a 
long  minute  her  small  fine  teeth,  still  perfect, 
showed  deep  in  her  under  lip  as  she  sought  and  won 
control  and  sent  her  gaze  vacantly  out  across  the  far 
blue  horizon.  As  she  relaxed,  her  eyes  came  back 
to  her  sister. 

;'  He  was  a  prince,  Martha.  You  saw  him  at 
Kilohana  before  .  .  .  after  you  came  home  from 
seminary.  He  filled  the  eyes  of  any  woman,  yes, 
and  of  any  man.  Twenty-five  he  was,  in  all  glorious 


28  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

ripeness  of  man,  great  and  princely  in  body  as  he 
was  great  and  princely  in  spirit.  No  matter  how 
wild  the  fun,  how  reckless  mad  the  sport,  he  never 
seemed  to  forget  that  he  was  royal  and  that  all  his 
forbears  had  been  high  chiefs  even  to  that  one  first 
one  they  sang  in  the  genealogies,  who  had  navigated 
his  double  canoes  to  Tahiti  and  Raiatea  and  back 
again.  He  was  gracious,  sweet,  kindly,  comradely, 
all  friendliness  —  and  severe,  and  stern,  and  harsh, 
if  he  were  crossed  too  grievously.  It  is  hard  to 
express  what  I  mean.  He  was  all  man,  man,  man, 
and  he  was  all  prince,  with  a  strain  of  the  merry 
boy  in  him,  and  the  iron  in  him  that  would  have 
made  him  a  good  and  strong  King  of  Hawaii  had 
he  come  to  the  throne. 

"  I  can  see  him  yet,  as  I  saw  him  that  first  day 
and  touched  his  hand  and  talked  with  him  .  .  .  few 
words  and  bashful,  and  anything  but  a  year-long 
married  woman  to  a  gray  haole  at  gray  Nahala. 
Half  a  century  ago  it  was,  that  meeting  —  you  re 
member  how  our  young  men  then  dressed  in  white 
shoes  and  trousers,  white  silk  shirts,  with,  slashed 
around  the  middle,  the  gorgeously  colorful  Spanish 
sashes  —  and  for  half  a  century  that  picture  of  him 
has  not  faded  in  my  heart.  He  was  the  center  of  a 
group  on  the  lawn,  and  I  was  being  brought  by  Ella 
Higginsworth  to  be  presented.  The  Princess  Lihue 
had  just  called  some  teasing  chaff  to  her  which  had 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  29 

made  her  halt  to  respond  and  left  me  halted  a  pace 
in  front  of  her. 

"  His  glance  chanced  to  light  on  me,  alone  there, 
perturbed,  embarrassed.  Oh,  how  I  see  him!  —  his 
head  thrown  back  a  little,  with  that  high,  bright,  im 
perious,  and  utterly  carefree  poise  that  was  so  usual 
of  him.  Our  eyes  met.  His  head  bent  forward, 
or  straightened  to  me.  I  don't  know  what  hap 
pened.  Did  he  command?  Did  I  obey?  I  do  not 
know.  I  know  only  that  I  was  good  to  look  upon, 
crowned  with  fragrant  maile,  clad  in  Princess  Na 
omi's  wonderful  holoku  loaned  me  by  Uncle  John 
from  his  taboo  room;  and  I  know  that  I  advanced 
alone  to  him  across  the  Mana  lawn,  and  that  he 
stepped  forth  from  those  about  him  to  meet  me  half 
way.  We  came  to  each  other  across  the  grass,  un 
attended,  as  if  we  were  coming  to  each  other  across 
our  lives. 

'  Was  I  very  beautiful,  Sister  Martha,  when  I 
was  young?  I  do  not  know.  I  don't  know.  But 
in  that  moment,  with  all  his  beauty  and  truly  royal- 
manness  crossing  to  me  and  penetrating  to  the  heart 
of  me,  I  felt  a  sudden  sense  of  beauty  in  myself  — 
how  shall  I  say?  —  as  if  in  him  and  from  him  per 
fection  were  engendered  and  conjured  within  my 
self. 

''  No  word  was  spoken.  But,  oh,  I  know  I  raised 
my  face  in  frank  answer  to  the  thunder  and  trumpets 


30  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

of  the  message  unspoken,  and  that,  had  it  been 
death  for  that  one  look  and  that  one  moment  I 
could  not  have  refrained  from  the  gift  of  myself 
that  must  have  been  in  my  face  and  eyes,  in  the 
very  body  of  me  that  breathed  so  high. 

"  Was  I  beautiful,  very  beautiful,  Martha,  when 
I  was  nineteen,  just  turning  into  twenty?  " 

And  Martha,  threescore  and  four,  looked  upon 
Bella,  threescore  and  eight,  and  nodded  genuine  af 
firmation,  and  to  herself  added  the  appreciation  of 
the  instant  in  what  she  beheld  —  Bella's  neck,  still 
full  and  shapely,  longer  than  the  ordinary  Hawaiian 
woman's  neck,  a  pillar  that  carried  regally  her  high- 
cheeked,  high-browed,  high-chief  ess  face  and  head; 
Bella's  hair,  high-piled,  intact,  sparkling  the  silver 
of  the  years,  ringleted  still  and  contrasting  definitely 
and  sharply  with  her  clean,  slim,  black  brows  and 
deep  brown  eyes.  And  Martha's  glance,  in  mod 
est  overwhelming  of  modesty  by  what  she  saw, 
dropped  down  the  splendid  breast  of  her  and  gen 
erously  true  lines  of  body  to  the  feet,  silken  clad, 
high-heeled-slippered,  small,  plump,  with  an  almost 
Spanish  arch  and  faultlessness  of  instep. 

'  When  one  is  young,  the  one  young  time !  "  Bella 
laughed.  '  Lilolilo  was  a  prince.  I  came  to  know 
his  every  feature  and  their  every  phase  .  .  .  after 
ward,  in  our  wonder  days  and  nights  by  the  sing 
ing  waters,  by  the  slumber-drowsy  surfs,  and  on  the 
mountain  ways.  I  knew  his  fine,  brave  eyes,  with 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  31 

their  straight  black  brows,  the  nose  of  him  that  was 
assuredly  a  Kamehameha  nose,  and  the  last,  least, 
lovable  curve  of  his  mouth.  There  is  no  mouth 
more  beautiful  than  the  Hawaiian,  Martha. 

"  And  his  body.  He  was  a  king  of  athletes,  from 
his  wicked,  wayward  hair  to  his  ankles  of  bronzed 
steel.  Just  the  other  day  I  heard  one  of  the  Wilder 
grandsons  referred  to  as  '  The  Prince  of  Harvard.' 
Mercy!  What  would  they,  what  could  they,  have 
called  my  Lilolilo  could  they  have  matched  him 
against  this  Wilder  lad  and  all  his  team  at  Har 
vard!" 

Bella  ceased  and  breathed  deeply,  the  while  she 
clasped  her  fine,  small  hands  in  her  ample  silken 
lap.  But  her  pink  fairness  blushed  faintly  through 
her  skin  and  warmed  her  eyes  as  she  relived  her 
prince  days. 

'  Well  —  you  have  guessed?  "  Bella  said,  with  de 
fiant  shrug  of  shoulders  and  a  straight  gaze  into 
her  sister's  eyes.  "  We  rode  out  from  gay  Mana 
and  continued  the  gay  progress  —  down  the  lava 
trails  to  Kiholo  to  the  swimming  and  the  fishing 
and  the  feasting  and  the  sleeping  in  the  warm  sand 
under  the  palms;  and  up  to  Puuwaawaa,  and  more 
pigsticking,  and  roping  and  driving,  and  wild  mut 
ton  from  the  upper  pasture  lands;  and  on  through 
Kona,  now  mauka  (mountainward),  now  down  to 
the  King's  palace  at  Kailua,  and  to  the  swimming 
at  Keauhou,  and  to  Kealakekua  Bay,  and  Napoopoo 


32  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

and  Honaunau.  And  everywhere  the  people  turn 
ing  out,  in  their  hands  gifts  of  flowers,  and  fruit, 
and  fish,  and  pig,  in  their  hearts  love  and  song,  their 
heads  bowed  in  obeisance  to  the  royal  ones  while 
their  lips  ejaculated  exclamations  of  amazement  or 
chanted  meles  of  old  and  unforgotten  days. 

"What  would  you,  Sister  Martha?  You  know 
what  we  Hawaiians  are.  You  know  what  we  were 
half  a  hundred  years  ago.  Lilolilo  was  wonderful. 
I  was  reckless.  Lilolilo  of  himself  could  make  any 
woman  reckless.  I  was  twice  reckless,  for  I  had 
cold,  gray  Nahala  to  spur  me  on.  I  knew.  I  had 
never  a  doubt.  Never  a  hope.  Divorces  in  those 
days  were  undreamed.  The  wife  of  George  Cast- 
ner  could  never  be  Queen  of  Hawaii,  even  if  Uncle 
Robert's  prophesied  revolutions  were  delayed,  and 
if  Lilolilo  himself  became  king.  But  I  never 
thought  of  the  throne.  What  I  wanted  would  have 
been  the  queendom  of  being  Lilolilo's  wife  and 
mate.  But  I  made  no  mistake.  What  was  impos 
sible  was  impossible,  and  I  dreamed  no  false  dreams. 

"  It  was  the  very  atmosphere  of  love.  And  Lilo 
lilo  was  a  lover.  I  was  forever  crowned  with  leis 
(wreaths)  by  him,  and  he  had  his  runners  bring  me 
leis  all  the  way  from  the  rose  gardens  of  Mana  - 
you  remember  them;  fifty  miles  across  the  lava  and 
the  ranges,  dewy  fresh  as  the  moment  they  were 
plucked,  in  their  jewel  cases  of  banana  bark;  yard 
long  they  were,  the  tiny  pink  buds  like  threaded  beads 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  33 

of  Neapolitan  coral.  And  at  the  luans  (feasts)  the 
forever  never-ending  luaus,  I  must  be  seated  on  Lilo- 
lilo's  Makaloa  mat,  the  Prince's  mat,  his  alone  and 
taboo  to  any  lesser  mortal  save  by  his  own  conde 
scension  and  desire.  And  I  must  dip  my  fingers  into 
his  own  pa  wai  holoi  (finger  bowl)  where  scented 
flower  petals  floated  in  the  warm  water.  Yes,  and 
careless  that  all  should  see  his  extended  favor,  I 
must  dip  into  'his  pa  paakai  for  my  pinches  of  red 
salt,  and  limu,  and  kukui  nut  and  chili  pepper;  and 
into  his  ipu  kai  (fish  sauce  dish)  of  kou  wood  that 
the  great  Kamehameha  himself  had  eaten  from  on 
many  a  similar  progress.  And  it  was  the  same  for 
special  delicacies  that  were  for  Lilolilo  and  the 
Princess  alone  —  for  his  nelu,  and  the  ake,  and  the 
palu,  and  the  alaala.  And  his  kahilis  were  waved 
over  me,  and  his  attendants  were  mine,  and  he  was 
mine;  and  from  my  flower-crowned  hair  to  my  happy 
feet  I  was  a  woman  loved." 

Once  again  Bella's  small  teeth  pressed  into  her 
under  lip,  as  she  gazed  vacantly  seaward  and  won 
control  of  herself  and  her  memories. 

"  It  was  on,  and  on,  through  all  Kona,  and  all 
Kau,  from  Hoopuloa  and  Kapua  to  Honuapo  and 
Punaluu,  a  lifetime  of  living  compressed  into  two 
short  weeks..  A  flower  blooms  but  once.  That  was 
my  time  of  bloom  —  Lilolilo  beside  me,  myself  on 
my  wonderful  Hilo,  a  queen,  not  of  Hawaii  but  of 
Lilolilo  and  Love.  He  said  I  was  a  bubble  of  color 


34  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

and  beauty  on  the  black  back  of  Leviathan;  that  I 
was  a  fragile  dewdrop  on  the  smoking  crest  of  a 
lava  flow;  that  I  was  rainbow  riding  the  thunder 
cloud.  .  .  ." 

Bella  paused  for  a  moment. 

"  I  shall  tell  you  no  more  of  what  he  said  to  me," 
she  declared  gravely;  "  save  that  the  things  he  said 
were  fire  of  love  and  essence  of  beauty,  and  that  he 
composed  hulas  to  me,  and  sang  them  to  me,  before 
all,  of  nights  under  the  stars  as  we  lay  on  our  mats 
at  the  feasting,  and  I  on  the  Makaloa  mat  of  Lilo- 
lilo. 

"  And  it  was  on  to  Kilauea —  the  dream  so  near 
its  ending;  and  of  course  we  tossed  into  the  pit  of 
sea-surging  lava  our  offerings  to  Pele  (Fire  God 
dess)  of  maile  leis  and  of  fish  and  hard  poi  wrapped 
moist  in  the  ti  leaves.  And  we  continued  down 
through  old  Puna,  and  feasted  and  danced  and  sang 
at  Kohoualea  and  Kamaili  and  Opihikao,  and  swam 
in  the  clear,  sweet-water  pools  of  Kalapana.  And  in 
the  end  came  to  Hilo  by  the  sea. 

;'  It  was  the  end.  We  had  never  spoken.  It  was 
the  end  recognized  and  unmentioned.  The  yacht 
waited.  We  were  days  late.  Honolulu  called,  and 
the  news  was  that  the  King  had  gone  particularly 
pupule  (insane),  that  there  were  Catholic  and  Prot 
estant  missionary  plottings,  and  that  trouble  with 
France  was  brewing.  As  they  had  landed  at  Ka- 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  35 

waihae  two  weeks  before  with  laughter  and  flowers 
and  song,  so  they  departed  from  Hilo.  It  was  a 
merry  parting,  full  of  fun  and  frolic  and  a  thousand 
last  messages  and  reminders  and  jokes.  The  anchor 
was  broken  out  to  a  song  of  farewell  from  Lilolilo's 
singing  boys  on  the  quarter-deck,  while  we,  in  the 
big  canoes  and  whaleboats,  saw  the  first  breeze  fill 
the  vessel's  sails  and  the  distance  begin  to  widen. 

"  Through  all  the  confusion  and  excitement  Lilo- 
lilo,  at  the  rail,  who  must  say  last  farewells  and 
quip  last  jokes  to  many,  looked  squarely  down  at  me. 
On  his  head  he  wore  my  \l\ma  lei,  which  I  had  made 
for  him  and  placed  there.  And  into  the  canoes,  to 
the  favored  ones,  they  on  the  yacht  began  tossing 
their  many  leis.  I  had  no  expectancy  of  hope  .  .  . 
And  yet  I  hoped,  in  a  small,  wistful  way  that  I  know 
did  not  show  in  my  face,  which  was  as  proud  and 
merry  as  any  there.  But  Lilolilo  did  what  I  knew 
he  would  do,  what  I  had  known  from  the  first  he 
would  do.  Still  looking  me  squarely  and  honestly 
in  the  eyes,  he  took  my  beautiful  ilima  lei  from  his 
head  and  tore  it  across.  I  saw  his  lips  shape,  but 
not  utter  aloud,  the  single  word  pan  (finish).  Still 
looking  at  me,  he  broke  both  parts  of  the  lei  in  two 
again  and  tossed  the  deliberate  fragments,  not  to 
me,  but  down  overside  into  the  widening  water. 
Pau.  It  was  finished.  .  .  ." 

For  a  long  space  Bella's  vacant  gaze  rested  on  the 


3  6  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

sea  horizon.  Martha  ventured  no  mere  voice  ex 
pression  of  the  sympathy  that  moistened  her  own 
eyes. 

"  And  I  rode  on  that  day,  up  the  old  bad  trail 
along  the  Hamakua  coast,"  Bella  resumed,  with  a 
voice  at  first  singularly  dry  and  harsh.  '  That  first 
day  was  not  so  hard.  I  was  numb.  I  was  too  full 
with  the  wonder  of  all  I  had  to  forget  to  know  that 
I  had  to  forget  it.  I  spent  the  night  at  Laupahoe- 
hoe.  Do  you  know,  I  had  expected  a  sleepless  night. 
Instead,  weary  from  the  saddle,  still  numb,  I  slept 
the  night  through  as  if  I  had  been  dead. 

"  But  the  next  day,  in  driving  wind  and  drench 
ing  rain !  How  it  blew  and  poured !  The  trail  was 
really  impassable.  Again  and  again  our  horses  went 
down.  At  first  the  cowboy  Uncle  John  had  loaned 
me  with  the  horses  protested,  then  he  followed  stol 
idly  in  the  rear,  shaking  his  head,  and,  I  know,  mut 
tering  over  and  over  that  I  was  pupule.  The  pack 
horse  was  abandoned  at  Kukuihaele.  We  almost 
swam  up  Mud  Lane  in  a  river  of  mud.  At  Waimea 
the  cowboy  had  to  exchange  for  a  fresh  mount.  But 
Hilo  lasted  through.  From  daybreak  till  midnight 
I  was  in  the  saddle,  till  Uncle  John,  at  Kilohana, 
took  me  off  my  horse,  in  his  arms,  and  carried  me 
in,  and  routed  the  women  from  their  beds  to  undress 
me  and  lomi  me,  while  he  plied  me  with  hot  toddies 
and  drugged  me  to  sleep  and  forgetfulness.  I  know 
I  must  have  babbled  and  raved.  Uncle  John  must 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  37 

have  guessed.  But  never  to  another,  nor  even  to 
me,  did  he  breathe  a  whisper.  Whatever  he  guessed 
he  locked  away  in  the  taboo  room  of  Naomi. 

u  I  do  have  fleeting  memories  of  some  of  that  day, 
all  a  broken-hearted,  mad  rage  against  fate  —  of  my 
hair  down  and  whipped  wet  and  stinging  about  me 
in  the  driving  rain;  of  endless  tears  of  weeping  con 
tributed  to  the  general  deluge,  of  passionate  out 
bursts  and  resentments  against  a  world  all  twisted 
and  wrong,  of  beatings  of  my  hands  upon  my  saddle 
pommel,  of  asperities  to  my  Kilohana  cowboy,  of 
spurs  into  the  ribs  of  poor  magnificent  Hilo,  with  a 
prayer  on  my  lips,  bursting  out  from  my  heart,  that 
the  spurs  would  so  madden  him  as  to  make  him 
rear  and  fall  on  me  and  crush  my  body  forever  out 
of  all  beauty  for  man,  or  topple  me  off  the  trail 
and  finish  me  at  the  foot  of  the  palis  (precipices), 
writing  pau  at  the  end  of  my  name  as  final  as  the 
unuttered  pau  on  Lilolilo's  lips  when  he  tore  across 
my  ilima  lei  and  dropped  it  in  the  sea.  .  .  . 

"  Husband  George  was  delayed  in  Honolulu. 
When  he  came  back  to  Nahala  I  was  there  waiting 
for  him.  And  solemnly  he  embraced  me,  perfunc 
torily  kissed  my  lips,  gravely  examined  my  tongue, 
decried  my  looks  and  state  of  health,  and  sent  me 
to  bed  with  hot  stove  lids  and  a  dosage  of  castor  oil. 
Like  entering  into  the  machinery  of  a  clock  and  be 
coming  one  of  the  cogs  or  wheels,  inevitably  and  re 
morselessly  turning  around  and  around,  so  I  entered 


38  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

back  into  the  gray  life  of  Nahala.  Out  of  bed  was 
Husband  George  at  half  after  four  every  morning, 
and  out  of  the  house  and  astride  his  horse  at  five. 
There  was  the  eternal  porridge,  and  the  horrible 
cheap  coffee,  and  the  fresh  beef  and  jerky,  the  fresh 
beef  and  jerky.  I  cooked,  and  baked,  and  scrubbed. 
I  ground  around  the  crazy  hand  sewing  machine  and 
made  my  cheap  holokus.  Night  after  night,  through 
the  endless  centuries  of  two  years  more,  I  sat  across 
the  table  from  him  until  eight  o'clock,  mending  his 
cheap  socks  and  shoddy  underwear  while  he  read  the 
years'-old  borrowed  magazines  he  was  too  thrifty  to 
subscribe  to.  And  then  it  was  bedtime  —  kerosene 
must  be  economized  —  and  he  wound  his  watch,  en 
tered  the  weather  in  his  diary,  and  took  off  his 
shoes,  the  right  shoe  first,  and  placed  them,  just  so, 
side  by  side,  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  on  his  side. 

"  But  there  was  no  more  of  my  drawing  to  Hus 
band  George,  as  had  been  the  promise  ere  the  Prin 
cess  Lihue  invited  me  on  the  progress  and  Uncle 
John  loaned  me  the  horse.  You  see,  Sister  Martha, 
nothing  would  have  happened  had  Uncle  John  re 
fused  me  the  horse.  But  I  had  known  love,  and  I 
had  known  Lilolilo;  and  what  chance,  after  that, 
had  Husband  George  to  win  from  me  heart  of  es 
teem  or  affection?  And  for  two  years,  at  Nahala, 
I  was  a  dead  woman,  who  somehow  walked  and 
talked,  and  baked  and  scrubbed,  and  mended  socks 
and  saved  kerosene.  The  doctors  said  it  was 


ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT  39 

the  shoddy  underwear  that  did  for  him,  pursuing  as 
always  the  high-mountain  Nahala  waters  in  the 
drenching  storms  of  midwinter. 

"  When  he  died,  I  was  not  sad.  I  had  been  sad 
too  long  already.  Nor  was  I  glad.  Gladness  had 
died  at  Hilo  when  Lilolilo  dropped  my  ilima  lei  into 
the  sea,  and  my  feet  were  never  happy  again.  Lilo 
lilo  passed  within  a  month  after  Husband  George. 
I  had  never  seen  him  since  the  parting  at  Hilo.  La, 
la,  suitors  a-many  have  I  had  since;  but  I  was  like 
Uncle  John.  Mating  for  me  was  but  once.  Uncle 
John  had  his  Naomi  room  at  Kilohana.  I  have  had 
my  Lilolilo  room  for  fifty  years  in  my  heart.  You 
are  the  first,  Sister  Martha,  whom  I  have  permitted 
to  enter  that  room.  .  .  ." 

A  machine  swung  the  circle  of  the  drive,  and  from 
it,  across  the  lawn,  approached  the  husband  of  Mar 
tha.  Erect,  slender,  gray-haired,  of  graceful  mili 
tary  bearing,  Roscoe  Scandwell  was  a  member  of 
the  "  Big  Five,"  which,  by  the  interlocking  of  inter 
ests,  determined  the  destinies  of  all  Hawaii.  Him 
self  pure  haole,  New  England  born,  he  kissed  Bella 
first,  arms  around,  full-hearty,  in  the  Hawaiian  way. 
His  alert  eye  told  him  that  there  had  been  a  woman 
talk,  and,  despite  the  signs  of  all  generousness  of 
emotion,  that  all  was  well  and  placid  in  the  twilight 
wisdom  that  was  theirs. 

"  Elsie  and  the  younglings  are  coming  —  just  got 
a  wireless  from  their  steamer,"  he  announced,  after 


40  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

he  had  kissed  his  wife.  "  And  they'll  be  spending 
several  days  with  us  before  they  go  on  to  Maui." 

"  I  was  going  to  put  you  in  the  Rose  Room,  Sister 
Bella,"  Martha  Scandwell  planned  aloud.  "  But  it 
will  be  better  for  her  and  the  children  and  the  nurses 
and  everything  there,  so  you  shall  have  Queen  Em 
ma's  Room." 

"  I  had  it  last  time,  and  I  prefer  it,"  Bella  said. 

Roscoe  Scandwell,  himself  well  taught  of  Ha 
waiian  love  and  love  ways,  erect,  slender,  dignified, 
between  the  two  nobly  proportioned  women,  an  arm 
around  each  of  their  sumptuous  waists,  proceeded 
with  them  toward  the  house. 

Waikiki,  Hawaii, 
June  6,  1916. 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI 

FROM  over  the  lofty  Koolau  Mountains,  vagrant 
wisps  of  the  trade  wind  drifted,  faintly  sway 
ing  the  great,  unwhipped  banana  leaves,  rustling  the 
palms,  and  fluttering  and  setting  up  a  whispering 
among  the  lace-leaved  algaroba  trees.  Only  inter 
mittently  did  the  atmosphere  so  breathe,  for  breath 
ing  it  was,  the  suspiring  of  the  languid  Hawaiian 
afternoon.  In  the  intervals  between  the  soft  breath 
ings,  the  air  grew  heavy  and  balmy  with  perfume  of 
flowers  and  exhalations  of  fat,  living  soil. 

Of  humans  about  the  low  bungalowlike  house, 
there  were  many;  but  one  only  of  them  slept.  The 
rest  were  on  the  tense  tiptoes  of  silence.  At  the 
rear  of  the  house  a  tiny  babe  piped  up  a  thin,  blatting 
wail  that  the  quickly  thrust  breast  could  not  appease. 
The  mother,  a  slender  hapa-haole  (half  white),  clad 
in  a  loose-flowing  holoku  of  white  muslin,  hastened 
away  swiftly  among  the  banana  and  papaia  trees 
to  remove  the  babe's  noise  by  distance.  Other 
women,  hapa-haole  and  full  native,  watched  her  anx 
iously  as  she  fled. 

At  the  front  of  the  house,  on  the  grass,  squatted 
a  score  of  Hawaiians.  Well-muscled,  broad-shoul 
dered,  they  were  all  strapping  men.  Brown-skinned, 
with  luminous  brown  eyes  and  black,  their  features 

41 


42  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

large  and  regular,  they  showed  all  the  signs  of 
being  as  good-natured,  merry-hearted,  and  soft- 
tempered  as  the  climate.  To  all  of  which  a  seem 
ing  contradiction  was  given  by  the  ferociousness  of 
their  accouterment.  Into  the  tops  of  their  rough 
leather  leggings  were  thrust  long  knives,  the  handles 
projecting.  On  their  heels  were  huge-roweled  Span 
ish  spurs.  They  had  the  appearance  of  banditti, 
save  for  the  incongruous  wreaths  of  flowers  and 
fragrant  maile  that  encircled  the  crowns  of  their 
flopping  cowboy  hats.  One  of  them,  deliciously 
and  roguishly  handsome  as  a  faun,  with  the  eyes  of 
a  faun,  wore  a  flaming,  double-hibiscus  bloom  co- 
quettishly  tucked  over  his  ear.  Above  them,  casting 
a  shelter  of  shade  from  the  sun,  grew  a  wide-spread 
ing  canopy  of  poinciana  regia,  itself  a  flame  of  scar 
let  blossoms,  out  of  each  of  which  sprang  pompons 
of  feathery  stamens.  From  far  off,  muffled  by  dis 
tance,  came  the  faint  stamping  of  their  tethered 
horses.  The  eyes  of  all  were  intently  fixed  upon 
the  solitary  sleeper  who  lay  on  his  back  on  a  lauhala 
mat  a  hundred  feet  away  under  the  monkey-pod 
trees. 

Large  as  were  the  Hawaiian  cowboys,  the  sleeper 
was  larger.  Also,  as  his  snow-white  hair  and  beard 
attested,  he  was  much  older.  The  thickness  of  his 
wrist  and  the  greatness  of  his  fingers  made  authentic 
the  mighty  frame  of  him  hidden  under  loose  dung- 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  43 

aree  pants  and  cotton  shirt,  buttonless,  open  from 
midriff  to  Adam's  apple,  exposing  a  chest  matted 
with  a  thatch  of  hair  as  white  as  that  of  his  head 
and  face.  The  depth  and  breadth  of  that  chest,  its 
resilience,  and  its  relaxed  and  plastic  muscles,  tok 
ened  the  knotty  strength  that  still  resided  in  him. 
Further,  no  bronze  and  beat  of  sun  and  wind  availed 
to  hide  the  testimony  of  his  skin  that  he  was  all- 
haole  —  a  white  man. 

On  his  back,  his  great  white  beard,  thrust  skyward, 
untrimmed  of  barbers,  stiffened  and  subsided  with 
every  breath,  while  with  the  outblow  of  every  ex 
halation  the  white  mustache  erected  perpendicu 
larly  like  the  quills  of  a  porcupine  and  subsided 
with  each  intake.  A  young  girl  of  fourteen,  clad 
only  in  a  single  shift,  or  muumuu,  herself  a  grand 
daughter  of  the  sleeper,  crouched  beside  him  and 
with  a  feathered  fly  flapper  brushed  away  the  flies. 
In  her  face  were  depicted  solicitude  and  nervous 
ness  and  awe,  as  if  she  attended  on  a  god. 

And  truly,  Hardman  Pool,  the  sleeping,  whiskered 
one,  was  to  her,  and  to  many  and  sundry,  a  god  — 
a  source  of  life,  a  source  of  food,  a  fount  of  wisdom, 
a  giver  of  law,  a  smiling  beneficence,  a  blackness  of 
thunder  and  punishment;  in  short,  a  man  master 
whose  record  was  fourteen  living  and  adult  sons 
and  daughters,  six  great-grandchildren,  and  more 
grandchildren  than  could  he  in  his  most  lucid  mo 
ments  enumerate. 


44  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Fifty-one  years  before,  he  had  landed  from  an 
open  boat  at  Laupahoehoe  on  the  windward  coast 
of  Hawaii.  The  boat  was  the  only  surviving  one 
of  the  whaler  Black  Prince  of  New  Bedford.  Him 
self  New  Bedford  born,  twenty  years  of  age,  by 
virtue  of  his  driving  strength  and  ability  he  had 
served  as  second  mate  on  the  lost  whale  ship.  Com 
ing  to  Honolulu  and  casting  about  for  himself,  he 
had  first  married  Kalama  Kamaiopili,  next  acted 
as  pilot  of  Honolulu  Harbor,  after  that  started 
a  saloon  and  boarding  house,  and,  finally,  on  the 
death  of  Kalama's  father,  engaged  in  cattle  ranch 
ing  on  the  broad  pasture  lands  she  had  inherited. 

For  over  half  a  century  he  had  lived  with  the 
Hawaiians,  and  it  was  conceded  that  he  knew  their 
language  better  than  did  most  of  them.  By  marry 
ing  Kalama,  he  had  married  not  merely  her  land 
but  her  own  chief  rank,  and  the  fealty  owed  by  the 
commoners  to  her  by  virtue  of  her  genealogy  was 
also  accorded  him.  In  addition,  he  possessed  of 
himself  all  the  natural  attributes  of  chiefship :  the 
gigantic  stature,  the  fearlessness,  the  pride,  and  the 
high  hot  temper  that  could  brook  no  impudence  nor 
insult,  that  could  be  neither  bullied  nor  awed  by 
any  utmost  magnificence  of  power  that  walked  on 
two  legs,  and  that  could  compel  service  of  lesser 
humans,  not  through  any  ignoble  purchase  by  bar 
gaining  but  through  an  unspoken  but  expected  conde 
scending  of  largesse.  He  knew  his  Hawaiians  from 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  45 

the  outside  and  the  in,  knew  them  better  than  them 
selves  —  their  Polynesian  circumlocutions,  faiths, 
customs,  and  mysteries. 

And  at  seventy-one,  after  a  morning  in  the  saddle 
over  the  ranges  that  began  at  four  o'clock,  he  lay 
under  the  monkey  pods  in  his  customary  and  sacred 
siesta  that  no  retainer  dared  to  break  nor  would 
dare  permit  any  equal  of  the  great  one  to  break. 
Only  to  the  King  was  such  a  right  accorded,  and, 
as  the  King  had  early  learned,  to  break  Hardman 
Pool's  siesta  was  to  gain  awake  a  very  irritable  and 
grumpy  Hardman  Pool  who  would  talk  straight 
from  the  shoulder  and  say  unpleasant  but  true  things 
that  no  King  would  care  to  hear. 

The  sun  blazed  down.  The  horses  stamped  re 
motely.  The  fading  trade-wind  wisps  sighed  and 
rustled  between  longer  intervals  and  quiescence. 
The  perfume  grew  heavier.  The  woman  brought 
back  the  babe,  quiet  again,  to  the  rear  of  the  house. 
The  monkey  pods  folded  their  leaves  and  swooned 
to  a  siesta  of  their  own  in  the  soft  air  above  the 
sleeper.  The  girl,  breathless  as  ever  from  the  enor 
mous  solemnity  of  her  task,  still  brushed  the  flies 
away;  and  the  score  of  cowboys  still  intently  and 
silently  watched. 

Hardman  Pool  awoke.  The  next  outbreath,  ex 
pected  of  the  long  rhythm,  did  not  take  place. 
Neither  did  the  white,  long  mustache  rise  up.  In 
stead,  the  cheeks,  under  the  whiskers,  puffed;  the 


46  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

eyelids  lifted,  exposing  blue  eyes,  choleric  and  fully 
and  immediately  conscious;  the  right  hand  went  out 
to  the  half-smoked  pipe  beside  him,  while  the  left 
hand  reached  the  matches. 

"  Get  me  my  gin  and  milk,"  he  ordered,  in 
Hawaiian,  of  the  little  maid,  who  had  been  startled 
into  a  tremble  by  his  waking. 

He  lighted  the  pipe,  but  gave  no  sign  of  aware 
ness  of  the  presence  of  his  waiting  retainers  until 
the  tumbler  of  gin  and  milk  had  been  brought  and 
drunk. 

'Well?"  he  demanded  abruptly,  and  in  the 
pause,  while  twenty  faces  wreathed  in  smiles  and 
twenty  pairs  of  dark  eyes  glowed  luminously  with 
well-wishing  pleasure,  he  wiped  the  lingering  drops 
of  gin  and  milk  from  his  hairy  lips.  "  What  are 
you  hanging  around  for?  What  do  you  want? 
Come  over  here." 

Twenty  giants,  most  of  them  young,  uprose  and 
with  a  great  clanking  and  jangling  of  spurs  and  spur 
chains  strode  over  to  him.  They  grouped  before 
him  in  a  semicircle,  trying  bashfully  to  wedge  their 
shoulders,  one  behind  another's,  their  faces  a-grin 
and  apologetic  and  at  the  same  time  expressing  a 
casual  and  unconscious  democraticness.  In  truth, 
to  them  Hardman  Pool  was  more  than  mere  chief. 
He  was  elder  brother,  or  father,  or  patriarch;  and 
to  all  of  them  he  was  related,  in  one  way  or  another, 
according  to  Hawaiian  custom,  through  his  wife  and 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  47 

through  the  many  marriages  of  his  children  and 
grandchildren.  His  slightest  frown  might  perturb 
them,  his  anger  terrify  them,  his  command  compel 
them  to  certain  death;  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  not 
one  of  them  would  have  dreamed  of  addressing  him 
otherwise  than  intimately  by  his  first  name,  which 
name,  "  Hardman,"  was  transmuted  by  their 
tongues  into  Kanaka  Oolea. 

At  a  nod  from  him,  the  semicircle  seated  itself 
on  the  manienie  grass,  and  with  further  deprecatory 
smiles  waited  his  pleasure. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  demanded,  in 
Hawaiian,  with  a  brusqueness  and  sternness  they 
knew  was  put  on. 

They  smiled  more  broadly,  and  deliciously 
squirmed  their  broad  shoulders  and  great  torsos  with 
the  appeasingness  of  so  many  wriggling  puppies. 
Hardman  Pool  singled  out  one  of  them. 

"Well,  Iliiopoi,  what  do  you  want?" 

"  Ten  dollars,  Kanaka  Oolea." 

u  Ten  dollars,"  Pool  cried,  in  apparent  shock  at 
mention  of  so  vast  a  sum.  :<  Does  it  mean  you 
are  going  to  take  a  second  wife?  Remember  the 
missionary  teaching.  One  wife  at  a  time,  Iliiopoi; 
one  wife  at  a  time.  For  he  who  entertains  a  plural 
ity  of  wives  will  surely  go  to  hell." 

Giggles  and  flashings  of  laughing  eyes  from  all 
greeted  the  joke. 

"  No,   Kanaka   Oolea,"   came  the  reply.     u  The 


48  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

devil  knows  I  am  hard  put  to  get  kow-kow  for  one 
wife  and  her  several  relations." 

"  Kow-kow?"  Pool  repeated  the  Chinese-in 
troduced  word  for  food  which  the  Hawaiians  had 
come  to  substitute  for  their  own  paina.  ;'  Didn't 
you  boys  get  kow-kow  here  this  noon?  " 

'  Yes,  Kanaka  Oolea,"  volunteered  an  old,  with 
ered  native  who  had  just  joined  the  group  from  the 
direction  of  the  house.  "  All  of  them  had  kow- 
kow  in  the  kitchen,  and  plenty  of  it.  They  ate  like 
lost  horses  brought  down  from  the  lava." 

"  And  what  do  you  want,  Kumuhana?"  Pool 
diverted  to  the  old  one,  at  the  same  time  motioning 
to  the  little  maid  to  flap  flies  from  the  other  side  of 
him. 

'  Twelve  dollars,"  said  Kumuhana.  "  I  want  to 
buy  a  jackass  and  a  secondhand  saddle  and  bridle. 
I  am  growing  too  old  for  my  legs  to  carry  me  in 
walking." 

'  You  wait,"  his  haole  lord  commanded.  "  I 
wrill  talk  with  you  about  the  matter,  and  about  other 
things  of  importance,  when  I  am  finished  with  the 
rest  and  they  are  gone." 

The  withered  old  one  nodded  and  proceeded  to 
light  his  pipe. 

'  The  kow-kow  in  the  kitchen  was  good,"  Iliiopoi 
resumed,  licking  his  lips.  u  The  poi  was  one-finger, 
the  pig  fat,  the  salmon  belly  unstinking,  the  fish  of 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  49 

great  freshness  and  plenty,  though  the  opihis  (tiny 
rock-clinging  shellfish)  had  been  salted  and  thereby 
made  tough.  Never  should  the  opihis  be  salted. 
Often  have  I  told  you,  Kanaka  Oolea,  that  opihis 
should  never  be  salted.  I  am  full  of  good  kow-kow. 
My  belly  is  heavy  with  it.  Yet  is  my  heart  not 
light  of  it  because  there  is  no  kow-kow  in  my  own 
house,  where  is  my  wife,  who  is  the  aunt  of  your 
fourth  son's  second  wife,  and  where  is  my  baby 
daughter,  and  my  wife's  old  mother,  and  my  wife's 
old  mother's  feeding  child  that  is  a  cripple,  and  my 
wife's  sister  who  lives  likewise  with  us  along  with 
her  three  children,  the  father  being  dead  of  a 
wicked  dropsy  — " 

'  Will  five  dollars  save  all  of  you  from  funerals 
for  a  day  or  several?"  .Pool  testily  cut  the  tale 
short. 

'  Yes,  Kanaka  Oolea,  and  as  well  it  will  buy  my 
wife  a  new  comb  and  some  tobacco  for  myself." 

From  a  gold  sack  drawn  from  the  hip  pocket  of 
his  dungarees,  Hardman  Pool  drew  the  gold  piece 
and  tossed  it  accurately  into  the  waiting  hand. 

To  a  bachelor  who  wanted  six  dollars  for  new 
leggings,  tobacco,  and  spurs,  three  dollars  were 
given;  the  same  to  another  who  needed  a  hat;  and 
to  a  third,  who  modestly  asked  for  two  dollars, 
four  were  given  with  a  flowery-worded  compliment 
anent  his  prowess  in  roping  a  recent  wild  bull  from 


50  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

the  mountains.  They  knew,  as  a  rule,  that  he  cut 
their  requisitions  in  half,  wherefore  they  doubled 
the  size  of  their  requisitions.  And  Hardman  Pool 
knew  they  doubled,  and  smiled  to  himself.  It  was 
his  way,  and,  further,  it  was  a  very  good  way  with 
his  multitudinous  relatives  and  did  not  reduce  his 
stature  in  their  esteem. 

"  And  you,  Ahuhu?  "  he  demanded  of  one  whose 
name  meant  "  poison  weed." 

"  And  the  price  of  a  pair  of  dungarees,"  Ahuhu 
concluded  his  list  of  needs.  ''  I  have  ridden  much 
and  hard  after  your  cattle,  Kanaka  Oolea,  and  where 
my  dungarees  have  pressed  against  the  seat  of  the 
saddlie  there  is  no  seat  to  my  dungarees.  It  is  not 
well  that  it  be  said  that  a  Kanaka  Oolea  cowboy, 
who  is  also  a  cousin  of  Kanaka  Oolea's  wife's  half 
sister,  should  be  ashamed  to  be  seen  out  of  the  saddle 
save  that  he  walks  backward  from  all  that  behold 
him." 

'  The  price  of  a  dozen  pairs  of  dungarees  be 
thine,  Ahuhu,"  Hardman  Pool  beamed,  tossing  to 
him  the  necessary  sum.  "  I  am  proud  that  my 
family  shares  my  pride.  Afterward,  Ahuhu,  out 
of  the  dozen  dungarees  you  will  give  me  one,  else 
shall  I  be  compelled  to  walk  backward,  my  own  and 
only  dungarees  being  in  like  manner  well  worn  and 
shameful." 

And  in  laughter  of  love  at  their  haole  chief's  final 
sally,  all  the  sweet-child-minded  and  physically  gor- 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  51 

geous  company  of  them  departed  to  their  waiting 
horses,  save  the  old  withered  one,  Kumuhana,  who 
had  been  bidden  to  wait. 

For  a  full  five  minutes  they  sat  in  silence.  Then 
Hardman  Pool  ordered  the  little  maid  to  fetch  a 
tumbler  of  gin  and  milk,  which,  when  she  brought 
it,  he  nodded  her  to  hand  to  Kumuhana.  The  glass 
did  not  leave  his  lips  until  it  was  empty,  whereupon 
he  gave  a  great  audible  outbreath  of  "  A-a-ah,"  and 
smacked  his  lips. 

"  Much  awa  have  I  drunk  in  my  time,"  he  said 
reflectively.  "  Yet  is  the  awa  but  a  common  man's 
drink  while  the  haole  liquor  is  a  drink  for  chiefs. 
The  awa  has  not  the  liquor's  hot  willingness,  its 
spur  in  the  ribs  of  feeling,  its  biting  alive  of  oneself 
that  is  very  pleasant,  since  it  is  pleasant  to  be  alive." 

Hardman  Pool  smiled  and  nodded  agreement,  and 
old  Kumuhana  continued : 

'  There  is  a  warmingness  to  it.  It  warms  the 
belly  and  the  soul.  It  warms  the  heart.  Even  the 
soul  and  the  heart  grow  cold  when  one  is  old." 

"  You  are  old,"  Pool  conceded.  "  Almost  as  old 
as  I." 

Kumuhana  shook  his  head  and  murmured: 
'  Were  I  no  older  than  you  I  would  be  as  young  as 
you." 

"  I  am  seventy-one,"  said  Pool. 

"  I  do  not  know  ages  that  way,"  was  the  reply. 
"  What  happened  when  you  were  born?  " 


52  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  Let  me  see,"  Pool  calculated.  "  This  is  1880. 
Subtract  71,  and  it  leaves  9.  I  was  born  in  1809, 
which  is  the  year  Keliimakai  died,  which  is  the  year 
the  Scotchman,  Archibald  Campbell,  lived  in  Hono 
lulu." 

"  Then  am  I  truly  older  than  you,  Kanaka  Oolea. 
I  remember  the  Scotchman  well,  for  I  was  playing 
among  the  grass  houses  of  Honolulu  at  the  time,  and 
already  riding  a  surf  board  in  the  wahine  (woman) 
surf  of  Waikiki.  I  can  take  you  now  to  the  spot 
where  was  the  Scotchman's  grass  house.  The  Sea 
man's  Mission  stands  now  on  the  very  ground.  Yet 
do  I  know  when  I  was  born.  Often  my  grand 
mother  and  my  mother  told  me  of  it.  I  was  born 
when  Madame  Pele  (the  Fire  Goddess  or  Volcano 
Goddess)  became  angry  with  the  people  of  Paiea 
because  they  sacrificed  no  fish  to  her  from  their  fish 
pond,  and  she  sent  down  a  flow  of  lava  from  Hual- 
alai  and  filled  up  their  pond.  Forever  was  the  fish 
pond  of  Paiea  filled  up.  That  was  when  I  was 
born." 

'  That  was  in  1801,  when  James  Boyd  was  build 
ing  ships  for  Kamehameha  at  Hilo,"  Pool  cast  back 
through  the  calendar;  "which  makes  you  seventy- 
nine,  or  eight  years  older  than  I.  You  are  very 
old." 

'  Yes,  Kanaka  Oolea,"  muttered  Kumuhana,  pa 
thetically  attempting  to  swell  his  shrunken  chest 
with  pride. 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  53 

u  And  you  are  very  wise." 

"  Yes,  Kanaka  Oolea." 

"  And  you  know  many  of  the  secret  things  that 
are  known  only  to  old  men." 

"  Yes,  Kanaka  Oolea." 

"  And  then  you  know  — '  Hardman  Pool  broke 
off,  the  more  effectively  to  impress  and  hypnotize  the 
other  ancient  with  the  set  stare  of  his  pale-washed 
blue  eyes.  '  They  say  the  bones  of  Kahekili  were 
taken  from  their  hiding  place  and  lie  to-day  in  the 
Royal  Mausoleum.  I  have  heard  it  whispered  that 
you  alone  of  all  living  men  truly  know." 

u  I  know,"  was  the  proud  answer.  "  I  alone 
know." 

"  Well,  do  they  lie  there?     Yes  or  no." 

''  Kahekili  was  an  alii  (high  chief).  It  is  from 
his  straight  line  that  your  wife  Kalama  came.  She 
is  an  alii."  The  old  retainer  paused  and  pursed 
his  lean  lips  in  meditation.  "  I  belong  to  her  as  all 
my  people  before  me  belonged  to  her  people  before 
her.  She  only  can  command  the  great  secrets  of 
me.  She  is  wise,  too  wise  ever  to  command  me  to 
speak  this  secret.  To  you,  O  Kanaka  Oolea,  I  do 
not  answer  yes,  I  do  not  answer  no.  This  is  a  se 
cret  of  the  aliis  that  even  the  aliis  do  not  know." 

"  Very  good,  Kumuhana,"  Hardman  Pool  com 
mended.  "  Yet  do  you  forget  that  I  am  an  alii, 
and  that  what  my  good  Kalama  does  not  dare  ask, 
I  command  to  ask.  I  can  send  for  her,  now,  and 


54  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

tell  her  to  command  your  answer.  But  such  would 
be  foolishness  unless  you  prove  yourself  doubly  fool 
ish.  Tell  me  the  secret,  and  she  will  never  know. 
A  woman's  lips  must  pour  out  whatever  flows  in 
through  her  ears,  being  so  made.  I  am  a  man,  and 
man  is  differently  made.  As  you  well  know,  my  lips 
suck  tight  on  secrets  as  a  squid  sucks  to  the  salty 
rock.  If  you  will  not  tell  me  alone,  then  will  you 
tell  Kalama  and  me  together,  and  her  lips  will  talk, 
her  lips  will  talk,  so  that  the  latest  malahini  will 
shortly  know  what,  otherwise,  you  and  I  alone  will 
know." 

Long  time  Kumuhana  sat  on  in  silence,  debating 
the  argument  and  finding  no  way  to  evade  the  fact 
logic  of  it. 

"  Great  is  your  haole  wisdom,"  he  conceded  at 
last. 

"  Yes  or  no?  "  Hardman  Pool  drove  home  the 
point  of  his  steel. 

Kumuhana  looked  about  him  first,  then  slowly  let 
his  eyes  come  to  rest  on  the  fly-flapping  maid. 

"  Go,"  Pool  commanded  her.  "  And  come  not 
back  without  you  hear  a  clapping  of  my  hands." 

Hardman  Pool  spoke  no  further,  even  after  the 
flapper  had  disappeared  into  the  house;  yet  his  face 
adamantly  looked :  'Yes  —  or  no?" 

Again  Kumuhana  looked  carefully  about  him,  and 
up  into  the  monkey-pod  boughs  as  if  to  apprehend 
a  lurking  listener.  His  lips  were  very  dry.  With 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  55 

his  tongue  he  moistened  them  repeatedly.  Twice 
he  essayed  to  speak,  but  was  inarticulately  husky. 
And  finally,  with  bowed  head,  he  whispered,  so  low 
and  solemn  that  Hardman  Poole  bent  his  own  head 
to  hear:  "  No." 

Pool  clapped  his  hands,  and  the  little  maid  ran 
out  of  the  house  to  him  in  tremulous,  fluttery  haste. 

"  Bring  a  milk  and  gin  for  old  Kumuhana,  here," 
Pool  commanded;  and,  to  Kumuhana:  "  Now  tell 
me  the  whole  story." 

"  Wait,"  was  the  answer.  "  Wait  till  the  little 
wahine  has  come  and  gone." 

And  when  the  maid  was  gone,  and  the  gin  and 
milk  had  traveled  the  way  predestined  of  gin  and 
milk  when  mixed  together,  Hardman  Pool  waited 
without  further  urge  for  the  story.  Kumuhana 
pressed  his  hand  to  his  chest  and  coughed  hollowly 
at  intervals,  bidding  for  encouragement;  but  in  the 
end,  of  himself,  spoke  out. 

"  It  was  a  terrible  thing  in  the  old  days  when  a 
great  alii  died.  Kahekili  was  a  great  alii.  He 
might  have  been  King  had  he  lived.  Who  can  tell? 
I  was  a  young  man,  not  yet  married.  You  know, 
Kanaka  Oolea,  when  Kahekili  died,  and  you  can  tell 
me  how  old  I  was.  He  died  when  Governor  Boki 
ran  the  Blonde  Hotel  here  in  Honolulu.  You  have 
heard?" 

"  I  was  still  on  windward  Hawaii,"  Pool  an 
swered.  u  But  I  have  heard.  Boki  made  a  dis- 


56  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

tillery,  and  leased  Manoa  lands  to  grow  sugar  for 
it,  and  Kaahumanu,  who  was  regent,  canceled  the 
lease,  rooted  out  the  cane,  and  planted  potatoes. 
And  Boki  was  angry,  and  prepared  to  make  war, 
and  gathered  his  fighting  men,  with  a  dozen  whale- 
ship  deserters  and  five  brass  six-pounders,  out  at 
Waikiki  — " 

"  That  was  the  very  time  Kahekili  died,"  Kumu- 
hana  broke  in  eagerly.  '  You  are  very  wise.  You 
know  many  things  of  the  old  days  better  than  we 
old  Kanakas." 

"It  was  1829,"  Pool  continued  complacently. 
*  You  were  twenty-eight  years  old,  and  I  was  twenty, 
just  coming  ashore  in  the  open  boat  after  the  burn 
ing  of  the  Black  Prince." 

"  I  was  twenty-eight,"  Kumuhana  resumed.  :<  It 
sounds  right.  I  remember  well  Boki's  brass  guns 
at  Waikiki.  Kahekili  died,  too,  at  the  time,  at 
Waikiki.  The  people  to  this  day  believe  his  bones 
were  taken  to  the  Hale  o  Keawe  (mausoleum)  at 
Honaunau,  in  Kona  — " 

"  And  long  afterward  were  brought  to  the  Royal 
Mausoleum  here  in  Honolulu,"  Pool  supplemented. 

"  Also,  Kanaka  Oolea,  there  are  some  who  be 
lieve  to  this  day  that  Queen  Alice  has  them  stored 
with  the  rest  of  her  ancestral  bones  in  the  big  jars 
in  her  taboo  room.  All  are  wrong.  I  know.  The 
sacred  bones  of  Kahekili  are  gone  and  forever  gone. 
They  rest  nowhere.  They  have  ceased  to  be.  And 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  57 

many  kona  winds  have  whitened  the  surf  at  Waikiki 
since  the  last  man  looked  upon  the  last  of  Kahekili. 
I  alone  remain  alive  of  those  men.  I  am  the  last 
man,  and  I  was  not  glad  to  be  at  the  finish. 

"  For,  see !  I  was  a  young  man,  and  my  heart 
was  white-hot  lava  for  Malia,  who  was  in  Kahe- 
kili's  household.  So  was  Anapuni's  heart  white-hot 
for  her,  though  the  color  of  his  heart  was  black,  as 
you  shall  see.  We  were  at  a  drinking  that  night  — 
Anapuni  and  I  —  the  night  that  Kahekili  died. 
Anapuni  and  I  were  only  commoners,  as  were  all 
of  us  Kanakas  and  wahines  who  were  at  the  drink 
ing  with  the  common  sailors  and  whaleship  men 
from  before  the  mast.  We  were  drinking  on  the 
mats  by  the  beach  at  Waikiki,  close  to  the  old  helau 
(temple)  that  is  not  far  from  what  is  now  the 
Wilders'  beach  place.  I  learned  then  and  forever 
what  quantities  of  drink  haole  sailormen  could  stand. 
As  for  us'Kanakas,  our  heads  were  hot  and  light  and 
rattly  as  dry  gourds  with  the  whisky  and  the  rum. 

"  It  was  past  midnight,  I  remember  well,  when  I 
saw  Malia,  whom  never  had  I  seen  at  a  drinking, 
come  across  the  wet-hard  sand  of  the  beach.  My 
brain  burned  like  red  cinders  of  hell  as  I  looked  upon 
Anapuni  look  upon  her,  he  being  nearest  to  her  by 
being  across  from  me  in  the  drinking  circle.  Oh,  I 
know  it  was  whisky  and  rum  and  youth  that  made 
the  heat  of  me;  but  there,  in  that  moment,  the  mad 
mind  of  me  resolved,  if  she  spoke  to  him  and  yielded 


58  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

to  dance  with  him  first,  that  I  would  put  both  my 
hands  around  his  throat  and  throw  him  down  and 
under  the  wahine  surf  there  beside  us,  and  drown 
and  choke  out  his  life  and  the  obstacle  of  him  that 
stood  between  me  and  her.  For  know,  that  she  had 
never  decided  between  us,  and  it  was  because  of  him 
that  she  was  not  already  and  long  since  mine. 

"  She  was  a  grand  young  woman,  with  a  body 
generous  as  that  of  a  chiefess  and  more  wonderful, 
as  she  came  upon  us,  across  the  wet  sand,  in  the  shim 
mer  of  the  moonlight.  Even  the  haole  sailormen 
made  pause  of  silence  and  with  open  mouths  stared 
upon  her.  Her  walk!  I  have  heard  you  talk,  O 
Kanaka  Oolea,  of  the  woman  Helen  who  caused  the 
war  of  Troy.  I  say  of  Malia  that  more  men  would 
have  stormed  the  walls  of  hell  for  her  than  went 
against  that  old-time  city  of  which  it  is  your  custom 
to  talk  over  much  and  long  when  you  have  drunk 
too  little  milk  and  too  much  gin. 

"Her  walk!  In  the  moonlight  there,  the  soft 
glow  fire  of  the  jellyfishes  in  the  surf  like  the  kero 
sene-lamp  footlights  I  have  seen  in  the  new  haole 
theater!  It  was  not  the  walk  of  a  girl,  but  a 
woman.  She  did  not  flutter  forward  like  rippling 
wavelets  on  a  reef-sheltered,  placid  beach.  There 
was  that  in  her  manner  of  walk  that  was  big  and 
queenlike,  like  the  motion  of  the  forces  of  nature, 
like  the  rhythmic  flow  of  lava  down  the  slopes  of 
Kau  to  the  sea,  like  the  movement  of  the  huge 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  59 

orderly  trade-wind  seas,  like  the  rise  and  fall  of  the 
four  great  tides  of  the  year  that  may  be  like  music 
in  the  eternal  ear  of  God,  being  too  slow  of  occur 
rence  in  time  to  make  a  tune  for  ordinary  quick- 
pulsing,  brief-living,  swift-dying  man. 

"  Anapuni  was  nearest.  But  she  looked  at  me. 
Have  you  ever  heard  a  call,  Kanaka  Oolea,  that  is 
without  sound,  yet  is  louder  than  the  conches  of  God? 
So  called  she  to  me  across  that  circle  of  the  drink 
ing.  I  half  arose,  for  I  was  not  yet  full  drunken; 
but  Anapuni's  arm  caught  her  and  drew  her,  and 
I  sank  back  on  my  elbow  and  watched  and  raged. 
He  was  for  making  her  sit  beside  him,  and  I  waited. 
Did  she  sit,  and,  next,  dance  with  him,  I  knew  that 
ere  morning  Anapuni  would  be  a  dead  man,  choked 
and  drowned  by  me  in  the  shallow  surf. 

"  Strange,  is  it  not,  Kanaka  Oolea,  all  this  heat 
called  '  love  '?  Yet  it  is  not  strange.  It  must  be 
so  in  the  time  of  one's  youth,  else  would  mankind 
not  go  on." 

'  That  is  why  the  desire  of  woman  must  be 
greater  than  the  desire  of  life,"  Pool  concurred. 
"  Else  would  there  be  neither  man  nor  woman." 

u  Yes,"  said  Kumuhana.  "  But  it  is  many  a  year 
now  since  the  last  of  such  heat  has  gone  out  of  me. 
I  remember  it  as  one  remembers  an  old  sunrise  — 
a  thing  that  was.  And  so  one  grows  old,  and  cold, 
and  drinks  gin,  not  for  madness,  but  for  warmth. 
And  the  milk  is  very  nourishing. 


60  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  But  Malia  did  not  sit  beside  him.  I  remember 
her  eyes  were  wild,  her  hair  down  and  flying,  as 
she  bent  over  him  and  whispered  in  his  ear.  And 
her  hair  covered  him  about  and  hid  him  as  she 
whispered,  and  the  sight  of  it  pounded  my  heart 
against  my  ribs  and  dizzied  my  head  till  scarcely 
could  I  half  see.  And  I  willed  myself  with  all  the 
will  of  me  that  if,  in  short  minutes,  she  did  not  come 
over  to  me,  I  would  go  across  the  circle  and  get 
her. 

"  It  was  one  of  the  things  never  to  be.  You  re 
member  Chief  Konukalani?  Himself  he  strode  up 
to  the  circle.  His  face  was  black  with  anger.  He 
gripped  Malia,  not  by  the  arm,  but  by  the  hair,  and 
dragged  her  away  behind  him  and  wras  gone.  Of 
that,  even  now,  can  I  understand  not  the  half.  I, 
who  was  for  slaying  Anapuni  because  of  her,  raised 
neither  hand  nor  voice  of  protest  when  Konukalani 
dragged  her  away  by  the  hair  —  nor  did  Anapuni. 
Of  course,  we  were  common  men,  and  he  was  a 
chief.  That  I  know.  But  why  should  two  common 
men,  mad  with  desire  of  woman,  with  desire  of 
woman  stronger  in  them  than  desire  of  life,  let  any 
one  chief,  even  the  highest  in  the  land,  drag  the 
woman  away  by  the  hair?  Desiring  her  more  than 
life,  why  should  the  two  men  fear  to  slay  then  and 
immediately  the  one  chief?  Here  is  something 
stronger  than  life,  stronger  than  woman,  but  what 
is  it  —  and  why?  " 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  61 

"  I  will  answer  you,"  said  Hardman  Pool.  "  It 
is  because  most  men  are  fools,  and  therefore  must  be 
taken  care  of  by  the  few  men  who  are  wise.  Such 
is  the  secret  of  chiefship.  In  all  the  world  are 
chiefs  over  men.  In  all  the  world  that  has  been  have 
there  ever  been  chiefs,  who  must  say  to  the  many 
fool  men:  '  Do  this;  do  not  do  that.  Work,  and 
work  as  we  tell  you,  or  your  bellies  will  remain 
empty  and  you  will  perish.  Obey  the  laws  we  set 
you  or  you  will  be  beasts  and  without  place  in  the 
world.  You  would  not  have  been  save  for  the 
chiefs  before  you  who  ordered  and  regulated  for 
your  fathers.  No  seed  of  you  will  come  after  you, 
except  that  we  order  and  regulate  for  you  now. 
You  must  be  peace-abiding,  and  decent,  and  blow 
your  noses.  You  must  be  early  to  bed  of  nights, 
and  up  early  in  the  morning  to  work  if  you  would 
have  beds  to  sleep  in  and  not  roost  in  trees  like  the 
silly  fowls.  This  is  the  reason  for  the  yam-planting 
and  you  must  plant  now.  We  say  now,  to-day,  and 
not  picnicking  and  hulaing  to-day  and  yam-planting 
to-morrow  or  some  other  day  of  the  many  careless 
days.  You  must  not  kill  one  another,  and  you  must 
leave  your  neighbors'  wives  alone.  All  this  is  life 
for  you,  because  you  think  but  one  day  at  a  time, 
while  we,  your  chiefs,  think  for  you  all  days  and  far 
days  ahead.'  ' 

;'  Like  a  cloud  in  the  mountaintop  that  comes 
down  and  wraps  about  you  and  that  you  dimly  see 


62  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

is  a  cloud,  so  is  your  wisdom  to  me,  Kanaka  Oolea," 
Kumuhana  murmured.  "  Yet  is  it  sad  that  I  should 
be  born  a  common  man  and  live  all  my  days  a  com 


mon  man." 


'  That  is  because  you  were  of  yourself  common," 
Hardman  Pool  assured  him.  u  When  a  man  is  born 
common,  and  is  by  nature  uncommon,  he  rises  up 
and  overthrows  the  chiefs  and  makes  himself  chief 
over  the  chiefs.  Why  do  you  not  run  my  ranch, 
with  its  many  thousands  of  cattle,  and  shift  the  pas 
tures  by  the  rainfall,  and  pick  the  bulls,  and  arrange 
the  bargaining  and  the  selling  of  the  meat  to  the 
sailing  ships  and  war  vessels  and  the  people  who 
live  in  the  Honolulu  houses,  and  fight  with  lawyers, 
and  help  make  laws,  and  even  tell  the  King  what  is 
wise  for  him  to  do  and  what  is  dangerous?  Why 
does  not  any  man  do  this  that  I  do  ?  Any  man  of  all 
the  men  who  work  for  me,  feed  out  of  my  hand, 
and  let  me  do  their  thinking  for  them?  —  me,  who 
works  harder  than  any  of  them,  who  eats  no  more 
than  any  of  them,  and  who  can  sleep  on  no  more  than 
one  lauhala  mat  at  a  time  like  any  of  them?" 

"  I  am  out  of  the  cloud,  Kanaka  Oolea,"  said 
Kumuhana,  with  a  visible  brightening  of  counte 
nance.  "  More  clearly  do  I  see.  All  my  long  years 
have  the  aliis  I  was  born  under  thought  for  me. 
Ever,  when  I  was  hungry,  I  came  to  them  for  food, 
as  I  come  to  your  kitchen  now.  Many  people  eat 
in  your  kitchen,  and  the  days  of  feasts  when  you 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  63 

slay  fat  steers  for  all  of  us  are  understandable.  It 
is  why  I  come  to  you  this  day,  an  old  man  whose 
labor  of  strength  is  not  worth  a  shilling  a  week, 
and  ask  of  you  twelve  dollars  to  buy  a  jackass  and 
a  second-hand  saddle  and  bridle.  It  is  why  twice  ten 
fool  men  of  us,  under  these  monkey  pods  half  an 
hour  ago,  asked  of  you  a  dollar  or  two,  or  four 
or  five,  or  ten  or  twelve.  We  are  the  careless  ones 
of  the  careless  days  who  will  not  plant  the  yam  in 
season  if  our  alii  does  not  compel  us,  who  will  not 
think  one  day  for  ourselves,  and  who,  when  we  age 
to  worthlessness,  know  that  our  alii  will  think  kow- 
kow  into  our  bellies  and  a  grass  thatch  over  our 
heads." 

Hardman  Pool  bowed  his  appreciation,  and 
urged : 

"  But  the  bones  of  Kahekili.  The  Chief  Konu- 
kalani  had  just  dragged  away  Malia  by  the  hair 
of  her  head,  and  you  and  Anapuni  sat  on  without 
protest  in  the  circle  of  drinking.  What  was  it 
Malia  whispered  in  Anapuni's  ear,  bending  over  him, 
her  hair  hiding  the  face  of  him?  " 

4  That  Kahekili  was  dead.  That  was  what  she 
whispered  to  Anapuni.  That  Kahekili  was  dead, 
just  dead,  and  that  the  chiefs,  ordering  all  within 
the  house  to  remain  within,  were  debating  the  dis 
posal  of  the  bones  and  meat  of  him  before  word  of 
his  death  should  get  abroad.  That  the  high  priest 
Eoppo  was  deciding  them,  and  that  she  had  over- 


64  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

heard  no  less  than  Anapuni  and  me  chosen  as  the 
sacrifices  to  go  the  way  of  Kahekili  and  his  bones  and 
to  care  for  him  afterward  and  forever,  in  the 
shadowy  other  world." 

"  The  moepuu,  the  human  sacrifice,"  Pool  com 
mented.  "  Yet  it  was  nine  years  since  the  coming 
of  the  missionaries." 

"  And  it  was  the  year  before  their  coming  that 
the  idols  were  cast  down  and  the  taboo  broken," 
Kumuhana  added.  "  But  the  chiefs  still  practiced 
the  old  ways,  the  custom  of  hunakele,  and  hid  the 
bones  of  the  aliis  where  no  man  should  find  them 
and  make  fishhooks  of  their  jaws  or  arrow  heads 
of  their  long  bones  for  the  slaying  of  little  mice  in 
sport.  Behold,  O  Kanaka  Oolea !  " 

The  old  man  thrust  out  his  tongue,  and,  to  Pool's 
amazement,  he  saw  the  surface  of  that  sensitive 
organ,  from  root  to  tip,  tattooed  in  intricate  de 
signs. 

u  That  was  done  after  the  missionaries  came, 
several  years  afterward,  when  Keopuolani  died. 
Also,  did  I  knock  out  four  of  my  front  teeth,  and 
half  circles  did  I  burn  over  my  body  with  blazing 
bark.  And  whoever  ventured  out  of  doors  that 
night  was  slain  by  the  chiefs.  Nor  could  a  light  be 
shown  in  a  house  or  a  whisper  of  noise  be  made. 
Even  dogs  and  hogs  that  made  a  noise  were  slain, 
nor  all  that  night  were  the  ships'  bells  of  the  haoles 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  65 

in  the  harbor  allowed  to  strike.  It  was  a  terrible 
thing  in  those  days  when  an  alii  died. 

"  But  the  night  that  Kahekili  died.  We  sat  on  in 
the  drinking  circle  after  Konukalani  dragged  Malia 
away  by  the  hair.  Some  of  the  haole  sailors  grum 
bled;  but  they  were  few  in  the  land  in  those  days 
and  the  Kanakas  many.  And  never  was  Malia  seen 
of  men  again.  Konukalani  alone  knew  the  manner 
of  her  slaying,  and  he  never  told.  And  in  after 
years  what  common  men  like  Anapuni  and  I  should 
dare  to  question  him! 

"  Now  she  had  told  Anapuni  before  she  was 
dragged  away.  But  Anapuni's  heart  was  black. 
Me  he  did  not  tell.  Worthy  he  was  of  the  killing 
I  had  intended  for  him.  There  was  a  giant  har- 
pooner  in  the  circle,  whose  singing  was  like  the  bel 
lowing  of  bulls;  and,  gazing  on  him  in  amazement 
while  he  roared  some  song  of  the  sea,  when  next  I 
looked  across  the  circle  to  Anapuni,  Anapuni  was 
gone.  He  had  fled  to  the  high  mountains  where  he 
could  hide  with  the  bird  catchers  a  week  of  moons. 
This  I  learned  afterward. 

"  I?  I  sat  on,  ashamed  of  my  desire  of  woman 
that  had  not  been  so  strong  as  my  slave  obedience  to 
a  chief.  And  I  drowned  my  shame  in  large  drinks 
of  rum  and  whisky,  till  the  world  went  round  and 
round,  inside  my  head  and  out,  and  the  Southern 
Cross  danced  a  hula  in  the  sky,  and  the  Koolau 


66  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Mountains  bowed  their  lofty  summits  to  Waikiki 
and  the  surf  of  Waikiki  kissed  them  on  their  brows. 
And  the  giant  harpooner  was  still  roaring,  his  the 
last  sounds  in  my  ear,  as  I  fell  back  on  the  lauhala 
mat  and  was  to  all  things  for  the  time  as  one  dead. 

"  When  I  awoke  was  at  the  faint  first  beginning  of 
dawn.  I  was  being  kicked  by  a  hard  naked  heel  in 
the  ribs.  What  of  the  enormousness  of  the  drink 
I  had  consumed,  the  feelings  aroused  in  me  by  the 
heel  were  not  pleasant.  The  Kanakas  and  wahines 
of  the  drinking  were  gone.  I  alone  remained  among 
the  sleeping  sailormen,  the  giant  harpooner,  snor 
ing  like  a  whale,  his  head  upon  my  feet. 

"  More  heel  kicks,  and  I  sat  up  and  was  sick. 
But  the  one  who  kicked  was  impatient,  and  demanded 
to  know  where  was  Anapuni.  And  I  did  not  know, 
and  was  kicked,  this  time  from  both  sides  by  two 
impatient  men,  because  I  did  not  know.  Nor  did 
I  know  that  Kahekili  was  dead.  Yet  did  I  guess 
something  serious  was  afoot,  for  the  two  men  who 
kicked  me  were  chiefs,  and  no  common  men  crouched 
behind  them  to  do  their  bidding.  One  was  Aimoku, 
of  Kaneohe;  the  other  Humuhumu,  of  Manoa. 

"  They  commanded  me  to  go  with  them,  and  they 
were  not  kind  in  their  commanding;  and  as  I  up 
rose,  the  head  of  the  giant  harpooner  was  rolled  oft 
my  feet,  past  the  edge  of  the  mat,  into  the  sand.  He 
grunted  like  a  pig,  his  lips  opened,  and  all  of  his 
tongue  rolled  out  of  his  mouth  into  the  sand.  Nor 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  67 

did  he  draw  it  back.  For  the  first  time  I  knew  how 
long  was  a  man's  tongue.  The  sight  of  the  sand  on 
it  made  me  sick  for  the  second  time.  It  is  a  terrible 
thing,  the  next  day  after  a  night  of  drinking.  I 
was  afire,  dry  afire,  all  the  inside  of  me  like  a  burnt 
cinder,  like  aa  lava,  like  the  harpooner's  tongue  dry 
and  gritty  with  sand.  I  bent  for  a  half-drunk  drink 
ing  cocoanut,  but  Aimoku  kicked  it  out  of  my  shak 
ing  fingers,  and  Humuhumu  smote  me  with  the  heel 
of  his  hand  on  my  neck. 

u  They  walked  before  me,  side  by  side,  their  faces 
solemn  and  black,  and  I  walked  at  their  heels.  My 
mouth  stank  of  the  drink,  and  my  head  was  sick 
with  the  stale  fumes  of  it,  and  I  would  have  cut  off 
my  right  hand  for  a  drink  of  water,  one  drink,  a 
mouthful  even.  And,  had  I  had  it,  I  know  it  would 
have  sizzled  in  my  belly  like  water  spilled  on  heated 
stones  for  the  roasting.  It  is  terrible,  the  next  day 
after  the  drinking.  All  the  lifetime  of  many  men 
who  died  young  has  passed  by  me  since  the  last  I 
was  able  to  do  such  mad  drinking  of  youth  when 
youth  knows  not  capacity  and  is  undeterred. 

"  But  as  we  went  on,  I  began  to  know  that  some 
alii  was  dead.  No  Kanakas  lay  asleep  in  the  sand, 
nor  stole  home  from  their  love-making;  and  no 
canoes  were  abroad  after  the  early  fish  most  catch- 
able  then  inside  the  reef  at  the  change  of  the  tide. 
When  we  came,  past  the  heiau  (temple),  to  where 
the  Great  Kamehameha  used  to  haul  out  his  brigs 


68  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

and  schooners,  I  saw,  under  the  canoe  sheds,  that  the 
mat  thatches  of  Kahekili's  great  double  canoe  had 
been  taken  off,  and  that  even  then,  at  low  tide,  many 
men  were  launching  it  down  across  the  sand  into 
the  water.  But  all  these  men  were  chiefs.  And, 
though  my  eyes  swam,  and  the  inside  of  my  head 
went  around  and  around,  and  the  inside  of  my  body 
was  a  cinder  athirst,  I  guessed  that  the  alii  who 
was  dead  was  Kahekili.  For  he  was  old,  and  most 
likely  of  the  aliis  to  be  dead." 

"  It  was  his  death,  as  I  have  heard  it,  more  than 
the  intercession  of  Kekuanaoa,  that  spoiled  Gover 
nor  Boki's  rebellion,"  Hardman  Pool  observed. 

"  It  was  Kahekili's  death  that  spoiled  it,"  Kamu- 
hana  confirmed.  "  All  commoners,  when  the  word 
slipped  out  that  night  of  his  death,  fled  into  the 
shelter  of  the  grass  houses,  nor  lighted  fire  nor 
pipes,  nor  breathed  loudly,  being  therein  and  thereby 
taboo  from  use  for  sacrifice.  And  all  Governor 
Boki's  commoners  of  fighting  men,  as  well  as  the 
haole  deserters  from  ships,  so  fled,  so  that  the  brass 
guns  lay  unserved  and  his  handful  of  chiefs  of  them 
selves  could  do  nothing. 

"  Aimoku  and  Humuhumu  made  me  sit  on  the 
sand  to  the  side  from  the  launching  of  the  great  dou 
ble  canoe.  And  when  it  was  afloat,  all  the  chiefs 
were  athirst,  not  being  used  to  such  toil;  and  I  was 
told  to  climb  the  palms  beside  the  canoe  sheds  and 
throw  down  drinking  cocoanuts.  They  drank  and 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  69 

were   refreshed,  but  rne  they  refused  to  let  drink. 

"  They  then  bore  Kahekili  from  his  house  to  the 
canoe  in  a  haole  coffin,  oiled  and  varnished  and  new. 
It  had  been  made  by  a  ship's  carpenter  who  thought 
he  was  making  a  boat  that  must  not  leak.  It  was 
very  tight,  and  over,  where  the  face  of  Kahekili  lay, 
was  nothing  but  thin  glass.  The  chiefs  had  not 
screwed  on  the  outside  plank  to  cover  the  glass. 
Maybe  they  did  not  know  the  manner  of  haole  cof 
fins  ;  but  at  any  rate  I  was  to  be  glad  they  did  not 
know,  as  you  shall  see. 

"  '  There  is  but  one  moepuu,'  said  the  priest 
Eoppo,  looking  at  me  where  I  sat  on  the  coffin  in 
the  bottom  of  the  canoe.  Already  the  chiefs  were 
paddling  out  through  the  reef. 

"  '  The  other  has  run  into  hiding,'  Aimoku  an 
swered.  '  This  one  was  all  we  could  get.' 

"  And  then  I  knew.  I  knew  everything.  I  was 
to  be  sacrificed.  Anapuni  had  been  planned  for  the 
other  sacrifice.  That  was  what  Malia  had  whis 
pered  to  Anapuni  at  the  drinking.  And  she  had 
been  dragged  away  before  she  could  tell  me.  And 
in  his  blackness  of  heart  he  had  not  told  me. 

"  *  There  should  be  two,'  said  Eoppo.  '  It  is  the 
law.' 

"  Aimoku  stopped  paddling  and  looked  back 
shoreward  as  if  to  return  and  get  a  second  sacrifice. 
But  several  of  the  chiefs  contended  no,  saying  that 
all  commoners  were  fled  to  the  mountains  or  were 


yo  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

lying  taboo  in  their  houses,  and  that  it  might  take 
days  before  they  could  catch  one.  In  the  end  Eoppo 
gave  in,  though  he  grumbled  from  time  to  time  that 
the  law  required  two  moepuus. 

"  We  paddled  on,  past  Diamond  Head  and 
abreast  of  Koko  Head,  till  we  were  in  the  midway 
of  the  Molokai  Channel.  There  was  quite  a  sea 
running,  though  the  trade  wind  was  blowing  light. 
The  chiefs  rested  from  their  paddles,  save  for  the 
steersmen  who  kept  the  canoe's  bow  on  to  the  wind 
and  swell.  And,  ere  they  proceeded  further  in  the 
matter,  they  opened  more  cocoanuts  and  drank. 

"  '  I  do  not  mind  so  much,  being  the  moepuu,'  I 
said  to  Humuhumu;  'but  I  should  like  to  have  a 
drink  before  I  am  slain.'  I  got  no  drink.  But  I 
spoke  true.  I  was  too  sick  of  the  much  whisky  and 
rum  to  be  afraid  to  die.  At  least  my  mouth  would 
stink  no  more,  nor  my  head  ache,  nor  the  inside  of 
me  be  as  dry-hot  sand.  Almost  worst  of  all,  I  suf 
fered  at  thought  of  the  harpooner's  tongue,  as  last 
I  had  seen  it,  lying  on  the  sand  and  covered  with 
sand.  O  Kanaka  Oolea,  what  animals  young  men 
are  with  the  drink!  Not  until  they  have  grown 
old,  like  you  and  me,  do  they  control  their  wanton 
ness  of  thirst  and  drink  sparingly,  like  you  and  me." 

"  Because  we  have  to,"  Hardman  Pool  rejoined. 
"  Old  stomachs  are  worn  thin  and  tender,  and  we 
drink  sparingly  because  we  dare  not  drink  more. 
We  are  wise,  but  the  wisdom  is  bitter." 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  71 

'  The  priest  Eoppo  sang  a  long  mele  about  Kahe- 
kili's  mother,  and  his  mother's  mother,  and  all  their 
mothers  all  the  way  back  to  the  beginning  of  time," 
Kumuhana  resumed.  "  And  it  seemed  I  must  die 
of  my  sand-hot  dryness  ere  he  was  done.  And  he 
called  upon  all  the  gods  of  the  under  world,  the 
middle  world,  and  the  over  world  to  care  for  and 
cherish  the  dead  alii  about  to  be  consigned  to  them, 
and  to  carry  out  the  curses  —  they  were  terrible 
curses  —  he  laid  upon  all  living  men  and  men  to 
live  after  who  might  tamper  with  the  bones  of  Kahe- 
kili  to  use  them  in  sport  of  vermin  slaying. 

"  Do  you  know,  Kanaka  Oolea,  the  priest  talked 
a  language  largely  different,  and  I  know  it  was  the 
priest  language,  the  old  language.  Maui  he  did  not 
name  Maui,  but  Maui-Tiki-Tiki  and  Maui-Po-Tiki. 
And  Hina,  the  goddess  mother  of  Maui,  he  named 
Ina.  And  Maui's  godfather  he  named  sometimes 
Akalana  and  sometimes  Kanaloa.  Strange  how  one 
about  to  die  and  very  thirsty  could  remember  such 
things !  And  I  remember  the  priest  named  Hawaii 
as  Vaii,  and  Lanai  as  Ngangai." 

'  Those  were  the  Maori  names,"  Hardman  Pool 
explained,  "  and  the  Samoan  and  Tongan  names, 
that  the  priests  brought  with  them  in  their  first  voy 
ages  from  the  south  in  the  long  ago  when  they  found 
Hawaii  and  settled  to  dwell  upon  it." 

"  Great  is  your  wisdom,  O  Kanaka  Oolea,"  the 
old  one  accorded  solemnly.  "  Ku,  our  Supporter  of 


72  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

the  Heavens,  the  priest  named  Tu,  and  also  Ru;  and 
La,  our  God  of  the  Sun,  he  named  Ra  - 

"  And  Ra  was  a  sun  god  in  Egypt  in  the  long  ago," 
Pool  interrupted  with  a  sparkle  of  interest.  '  Truly, 
you  Polynesians  have  traveled  far  in  time  and  space 
since  first  you  began.  A  far  cry  it  is  from  old  Egypt, 
when  Atlantis  was  still  afloat,  to  young  Hawaii  in 
the  North  Pacific.  -  But  proceed,  Kumuhana. 
Do  you  remember  anything  else  of  what  the  priest 
Eoppo  sang?  " 

"  At  the  very  end,"  Kumuhana  went  on,  "  though 
I  was  near  dead  myself,  and  nearer  to  die  under  the 
priest's  knife,  he  sang  what  I  have  remembered  every 
word  of.  Listen !  It  was  thus." 

And  in  quavering  falsetto,  with  the  customary 
broken  notes,  the  old  man  sang. 

"  A  Maori  death  chant  unmistakably,"  Pool  ex 
claimed,  "  sung  by  an  Hawaiian  with  a  tattooed 
tongue !  Repeat  it  once  again,  and  I  shall  say  it  to 
you  in  English." 

And  when  it  had  been  repeated,  he  spoke  it  slowly 
in  English : 

"  But  death  is  nothing  new. 
Death  is  and  has  been  ever  since  old  Maui  died. 
Then  Pata-tai  laughed  loud 
And  woke  the  goblin  god, 
Who  severed  him  in  two,  and  shut  him  in, 
So  dusk  of  eve  came  on." 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  73 

"  And  at  the  last,"  Kumuhana  resumed,  "  I  was 
not  slain.  Eoppo,  the  killing  knife  in  hand  and 
ready  to  lift  for  the  blow,  did  not  lift.  And  I  ? 
How  did  I  feel  and  think?  Often,  Kanaka  Oolea, 
have  I  since  laughed  at  the  memory  of  it.  I  felt 
very  thirsty.  I  did  not  want  to  die.  I  wanted  a 
drink  of  water.  I  knew  1  was  going  to  die,  and  1 
kept  remembering  the  thousand  waterfalls  falling  to 
waste  down  the  palls  (precipices)  of  the  windward 
Koolau  Mountains.  I  did  not  think  of  Anapuni. 
I  was  too  thirsty.  I  did  not  think  of  Malia.  I  was 
too  thirsty.  But  continually,  inside  my  head,  I  saw 
the  tongue  of  the  harpooner,  covered  dry  with  sand, 
as  I  had  last  seen  it,  lying  in  the  sand. 
My  tongue  was  like  that,  too.  And  in  the  bottom 
of  the  canoe  rolled  about  many  drinking  nuts.  Yet 
I  did  not  attempt  to  drink,  for  these  were  chiefs  and 
I  was  a  common  man. 

'  No,'  said  Eoppo,  commanding  the  chiefs  to 
throw  overboard  the  coffin.  '  There  are  not  two 
moepuus,  therefore  there  shall  be  none.' 

"  '  Slay  the  one,'  the  chiefs  cried. 

"  But  Eoppo  shook  his  head,  and  said :  '  We  can 
not  send  Kahekili  on  his  way  with  only  the  tops  of 
the  taro.' 

"  '  Half  a  fish  is  better  than  none,'  Aimoku  said 
the  old  saying. 

"  '  Not  at  the  burying  of  an  alii,'  was  the  priest's 
quick  reply.  '  It  is  the  law.  We  cannot  be  nig- 


74  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

gard  with  Kahekili  and  cut  his  allotment  of  sacri 
fice  in  half.' 

"  So,  for  the  moment,  while  the  coffin  went  over 
side,  I  was  not  slain.  And  it  was  strange  that  I  was 
glad  immediately  that  I  was  to  live.  And  I  began 
to  remember  Malia,  and  to  begin  to  plot  a  vengeance 
on  Anapuni.  And  with  the  blood  of  life  thus  fresh 
ening  in  me,  my  thirst  multiplied  on  itself  tenfold, 
and  my  tongue  and  mouth  and  throat  seemed  as 
sanded  as  the  tongue  of  the  harpooner.  The  coffin 
being  overboard,  I  was  sitting  in  the  bottom  of  the 
canoe.  A  cocoanut  rolled  between  my  legs  and  I 
closed  them  on  it.  But  as  I  picked  it  up  in  my 
hand,  Aimoku  smote  my  hand  with  the  paddle  edge. 
Behold!" 

He  held  up  the  hand,  showing  two  fingers  crooked 
from  never  having  been  set. 

"  I  had  no  time  to  vex  over  my  pain,  for  worse 
things  were  upon  me.  All  the  chiefs  were  crying 
out  a  horror.  The  coffin,  head  end  up,  had  not 
sunk.  It  bobbed  up  and  down  in  the  sea  astern  of 
us.  And  the  canoe,  without  way  on  it,  bow  on  to 
sea  and  wind,  was  drifted  down  by  sea  and  wind 
upon  the  coffin.  And  the  glass  of  it  was  to  us,  so 
that  we  could  see  the  face  and  head  of  Kahekili 
through  the  glass;  and  he  grinned  at  us  through  the 
glass  and  seemed  alive  already  in  the  other  world 
and  angry  with  us,  and,  with  other-world  power, 
about  to  wreak  his  anger  upon  us.  Up  and  down 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  75 

he  bobbed,  and  the  canoe  drifted  closer  upon  him. 

u  k  Kill  him  !  '  *  Bleed  him  !  '  '  Thrust  to  the 
heart  of  him!  '  These  things  the  chiefs  were  crying 
out  to  Eoppo  in  their  fear.  '  Over  with  the  taro 
tops  !  '  '  Let  the  alii  have  the  half  of  a  fish !  ' 

"  Eoppo,  priest  though  he  was,  likewise  was 
afraid,  and  his  reason  weakened  before  the  sight  of 
Kahekili  in  his  haole  coffin  that  would  not  sink.  He 
seized  me  by  the  hair,  drew  me  to  my  feet,  and 
lifted  the  knife  to  plunge  to  my  heart.  And  there 
was  no  resistance  in  me.  I  knew  again  only  that 
I  was  very  thirsty,  and  before  my  swimming  eyes, 
in  mid-air  and  close  up,  dangled  the  sanded  tongue 
of  the  harpooner. 

"  But  before  the  knife  could  fall  and  drive  in, 
the  thing  happened  that  saved  me.  Akai,  half 
brother  to  Governor  Boki  as  you  will  remember,  was 
steersman  of  the  canoe,  and,  therefore,  in  the  stern, 
was  nearest  to  the  coffin  and  its  dead  that  would  not 
sink.  He  was  wild  with  fear,  and  he  thrust  out 
with  the  point  of  his  paddle  to  fend  off  the  coffined 
alii  that  seemed  bent  to  come  on  board.  The  point 
of  the  paddle  struck  the  glass.  The  glass  broke  — " 

"  And  the  coffin  immediately  sank,"  Hardman 
Pool  broke  in;  "the  air  that  floated  it  escaping 
through  the  broken  glass." 

'  The  coffin  immediately  sank,  being  builded  by 
the  ship's  carpenter  like  a  boat,"  Kumuhana  con 
firmed.  "  And  I,  who  was  a  moepuu,  became  a  man 


76  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

once  more.  And  I  lived,  though  I  died  a  thousand 
deaths  from  thirst  before  we  gained  back  to  the 
beach  at  Waikiki. 

"  And  so,  O  Kanaka  Oolea,  the  bones  of  Kahekili 
do  not  lie  in  the  Royal  Mausoleum.  They  are  at 
the  bottom  of  Molokai  Channel,  if  not,  long  since, 
they  have  become  floating  dust  of  slime,  or,  builded 
into  the  bodies  of  the  coral  creatures  dead  and  gone, 
are  builded  into  the  coral  reef  itself.  Of  men  I  am 
the  one  living  one  who  saw  the  bones  of  Kahekili 
sink  into  the  Molokai  Channel." 

In  the  pause  that  followed,  wherein  Hardman 
Pool  was  deep  sunk  in  meditation,  Kumuhana  licked 
his  dry  lips  many  times.  At  the  last  he  broke  silence : 

"  The  twelve  dollars,  Kanaka  Oolea,  for  the 
jackass  and  the  second-hand  saddle  and  bridle?" 
'  The  twelve  dollars  would  be  thine,"  Pool  re 
sponded,  passing  to  the  ancient  one  six  dollars  and  a 
half,  "  save  that  I  have  in  my  stable  junk  the  very 
bridle  and  saddle  for  you  which  I  shall  give  you. 
These  six  dollars  and  a  half  will  buy  you  the  per 
fectly  suitable  jackass  of  the  pake  (Chinese)  at  Ko- 
kako  who  told  me  only  yesterday  that  such  was  the 
price." 

They  sat  on,  Pool  meditating,  conning  over  and 
over  to  himself  the  Maori  death  chant  he  had  heard, 
and  especially  the  line,  u  So  dusk  of  eve  came  on," 
finding  in  it  an  intense  satisfaction  of  beauty;  Kumu- 


THE  BONES  OF  KAHEKILI  77 

hana  licking  his  lips  and  tokening  that  he  waited  for 
something  more.  At  last  he  broke  silence. 

"  I  have  talked  long,  O  Kanaka  Oolea.  There 
is  not  the  enduring  moistness  in  my  mouth  that  was 
when  I  was  young.  It  seems  that  afresh  upon  me 
is  the  thirst  that  was  mine  when  tormented  by  the 
visioned  tongue  of  the  harpooner.  The  gin  and 
milk  is  very  good,  O  Kanaka  Oolea,  for  a  tongue 
that  is  like  the  harpooner's." 

A  shadow  of  a  smile  flickered  across  Pool's  face. 
He  clapped  his  hands,  and  the  little  maid  came 
running. 

"  Bring  one  glass  of  gin  and  milk  for  old  Kumu- 
hana,"  commanded  Hardman  Pool. 

Waikiki,  Honolulu, 
June  28,  1916. 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL 

THIS,  of  Alice  Akana,  is  an  affair  of  Hawaii, 
not  of  this  day,  but  of  days  recent  enough, 
when  Abel  Ah  Yo  preached  his  famous  revival  in 
Honolulu  and  persuaded  Alice  Akana  to  tell  her 
soul.  But  what  Alice  told  concerned  itself  writh 
the  earlier  history  of  the  then  surviving  generation. 

For  Alice  Akana  was  fifty  years  old,  had  begun 
life  early,  and,  early  and  late,  lived  it  spaciously. 
What  she  knew  went  back  into  the  roots  and  foun 
dations  of  families,  businesses,  and  plantations.  She 
was  the  one  living  repository  of  accurate  informa 
tion  that  lawyers  sought  out,  whether  the  informa 
tion  they  required  related  to  land  boundaries  and 
land  gifts,  or  to  marriages,  births,  bequests,  or  scan 
dals.  Rarely,  because  of  the  tight  tongue  she  kept 
behind  her  teeth,  did  she  give  them  what  they  asked; 
and,  when  she  did,  it  was  when  equity  alone  was 
served  and  no  one  could  be  hurt. 

For  Alice  had  lived,  from  early  in  her  girlhood, 
a  life  of  flowers  and  song  and  wine  and  dance;  and, 
in  her  later  years,  had  herself  been  mistress  of  these 
revels  by  office  of  mistress  of  the  hula  house.  In 
such  atmosphere,  where  mandates  of  God  and  man 

78 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       79 

and  caution  are  inhibited,  and  where  woozled  tongues 
will  wag,  she  acquired  her  historical  knowledge  of 
things  never  otherwise  whispered  and  rarely  guessed. 
Her  tight  tongue  had  served  her  well,  so  that,  while 
the  old-timers  knew  she  must  know,  none  ever 
heard  her  gossip  of  the  times  of  Kalakaua's  boat- 
house,  nor  the  high  times  of  officers  of  visiting  war 
ships,  nor  of  the  diplomats  and  ministers  and  coun 
sels  of  the  countries  of  the  world. 

So,  at  fifty,  loaded  with  historical  dynamite  suffi 
cient,  if  it  were  ever  exploded,  to  shake  the  social 
and  commercial  life  of  the  Islands,  still  tight  of 
tongue,  Alice  Akana  was  mistress  of  the  hula  house, 
manageress  of  the  dancing  girls  who  hula'd  for  roy 
alty,  for  luaus,  house  parties,  poi  suppers,  and 
curious  tourists.  Moreover,  at  fifty,  she  was  not 
merely  buxom,  but  short  and  fat  in  the  Polynesian 
peasant  way,  with  a  constitution  and  lack  of  organic 
weakness  that  promised  incalculable  years.  But  it 
was,  at  fifty,  that  she  strayed,  quite  by  chance  of 
time  and  curiosity,  into  Abel  Ah  Yo's  revival 
meeting. 

Now  Abel  Ah  Yo,  in  his  theology  and  word  wiz 
ardry,  was  as  much  mixed  a  personage  as  Billy 
Sunday.  In  his  genealogy  he  was  much  more  mixed, 
for  he  was  compounded  of  one-fourth  Portuguese, 
one  fourth  Scotch,  one  fourth  Hawaiian,  and  one 
fourth  Chinese.  The  Pentecostal  fire  he  flamed 


8o  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

forth  was  hotter  and  more  variegated  than  could 
any  one  of  the  four  races  of  him  alone  have  flamed 
forth.  For  in  him  were  gathered  together  the  can- 
niness  and  the  cunning,  the  wit  and  the  wisdom,  the 
subtlety  and  the  rawness,  the  passion  and  the  phi 
losophy,  the  agonizing  spirit  groping  and  the  legs  up 
to  the  knees  in  the  dung  of  reality,  of  the  four  rad 
ically  different  breeds  that  contributed  to  the  sum 
of  him.  His,  also,  was  the  clever  self-deceivement 
of  the  entire  clever  compound. 

When  it  came  to  word  wizardry,  he  had  Billy 
Sunday,  master  of  slang  and  argot  of  one  language, 
skinned  by  miles.  For  in  Abel  Ah  Yo  were  the 
live  verbs  and  nouns  and  adjectives  and  metaphors  of 
four  living  languages.  Intermixed  and  living  pro 
miscuously  and  vitally  together,  he  possessed  in  these 
languages  a  reservoir  of  expression  in  which  a 
myriad  Billy  Sundays  could  drown.  Of  no  race,  a 
mongrel  par  excellence,  a  heterogeneous  scrabble, 
the  genius  of  the  admixture  was  superlatively  Abel 
Ah  Yo's.  Like  a  chameleon,  he  titubated  and  scin 
tillated  grandly  between  the  diverse  parts  of  him, 
stunning  by  frontal  attack  and  surprising  and  con 
founding  by  flanking  sweeps  the  mental  homogeneity 
of  the  more  simply  constituted  souls  who  came  in  to 
his  revival  to  sit  under  him  and  flame  to  his  flaming. 

Abel  Ah  Yo  believed  in  himself  and  his  mixed- 
ness,  as  he  believed  in  the  mixedness  of  his  weird 
concept  that  God  looked  as  much  like  him  as  like 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       81 

any  man,  being  no  mere  tribal  god  but  a  world  god 
that  must  look  equally  like  all  races  of  all  the  world 
even  if  it  led  to  piebaldness.  And  the  concept 
worked.  Chinese,  Korean,  Japanese,  Hawaiian, 
Porto  Rican,  Russian,  English,  French  —  members 
of  all  races  —  knelt  without  friction,  side  by  side, 
to  his  revision  of  deity. 

Himself,  in  his  tender  youth  an  apostate  to  the 
Church  of  England,  Abel  Ah  Yo  had  for  years  suf 
fered  the  lively  sense  of  being  a  Judas  sinner.  Es 
sentially  religious,  he  had  forsworn  the  Lord.  Like 
Judas  therefore  he  was.  Judas  was  damned. 
Wherefore  he,  Abel  Ah  Yo,  was  damned;  and  he 
did  not  want  to  be  damned.  So,  quite  after  the 
manner  of  humans,  he  squirmed  and  twisted  to  es 
cape  damnation.  The  day  came  when  he  solved  his 
escape.  The  doctrine  that  Judas  was  damned,  he 
concluded,  was  a  misinterpretation  of  God,  who, 
above  all  things,  stood  for  justice.  Judas  had  been 
God's  servant,  specially  selected  to  perform  a  par 
ticularly  nasty  job.  Therefore  Judas,  ever  faith 
ful,  a  betrayer  only  by  divine  command,  was  a  saint. 
Ergo,  he,  Abel  Ah  Yo,  was  a  saint  by  very  virtue  of 
his  apostasy  to  a  particular  sect,  and  he  could  have 
access  with  clear  grace  any  time  to  God. 

This  theory  became  one  of  the  major  tenets  of  his 
preaching,  and  was  especially  efficacious  in  cleansing 
the  consciences  of  the  backsliders  from  all  other 
faiths  who  else,  in  the  secrecy  of  their  subconscious 


82  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

selves,  were  being  crushed  by  the  weight  of  the 
Judas  sin.  To  Abel  Ah  Yo,  God's  plan  was  as  clear 
as  if  he,  Abel  Ah  Yo,  had  planned  it  himself.  All 
would  be  saved  in  the  end,  although  some  took  longer 
than  others  and  would  win  only  to  back  seats. 
Man's  place  in  the  ever-fluxing  chaos  of  the  world 
was  definite  and  preordained  —  if,  by  no  other 
token,  by  denial  that  there  was  any  ever-fluxing 
chaos.  This  was  a  mere  bugbear  of  mankind's  ad 
dled  fancy;  and,  by  stinging  audacities  of  thought 
and  speech,  vivid  slang  that  bit  home  by  sheerest 
intimacy  into  his  listeners'  mental  processes,  he  drove 
the  bugbear  from  their  brains,  showed  them  the  lov 
ing  clarity  of  God's  design,  and,  thereby,  induced 
in  them  spiritual  serenity  and  calm. 

What  chance  had  Alice  Akana,  herself  pure  and 
homogeneous  Hawaiian,  against  his  subtle,  demo 
cratic-tinged,  four-race-engendered,  slang-munitioned 
attack?  He  knew,  by  contact,  almost  as  much  as 
she  about  the  waywardness  of  living  and  sinning  — 
having  been  singing  boy  on  the  passenger  ships  be 
tween  Hawaii  and  California,  and,  after  that,  bar 
boy,  atfoat  and  ashore,  from  San  Francisco's  Barbary 
Coast  to  Heinie's  Tavern  at  Waikiki.  In  point  of 
fact,  he  had  left  his  job  of  Number  One  Bar  Boy 
at  Honolulu's  University  Club  to  embark  on  his 
great  preachment  revival. 

So,  when  Alice  Akana  strayed  in  to  scoff,  she  re 
mained  to  pray  to  Abel  Ah  Yo's  god,  who  struck  her 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       83 

hard-headed  mind  as  the  most  sensible  god  of  which 
she  had  ever  heard.  She  gave  money  into  Abel  Ah 
Yo's  collection  plate,  closed  up  the  hula  house  and 
dismissed  the  hula  dancers  to  more  devious  ways  of 
earning  a  livelihood,  shed  her  gala  colors  and  rai 
ments  and  flower  garlands,  and  bought  a  bible. 

It  was  a  time  of  religious  excitement  in  the  pur 
lieus  of  Honolulu.  The  thing  was  a  democratic 
movement  of  the  people  toward  God.  Place  and 
caste  were  invited,  but  never  came.  The  stupid 
lowly,  and  the  humble  lowly,  only,  went  down  on  its 
knees  at  the  penitent  form,  admitted  its  pathological 
weight  and  hurt  of  sin,  eliminated  and  purged  all 
its  bafflements,  and  walked  forth  again  upright  un 
der  the  sun,  childlike  and  pure,  upborne  by  Abel  Ah 
Yo's  god's  arm  around  it.  In  short,  Abel  Ah  Yo's 
revival  was  a  clearing  house  for  sin  and  sickness 
of  spirit,  wherein  sinners  were  relieved  of  their  bur- 
dens  and  made  light  and  bright  and  spiritually 
healthy  again. 

But  Alice  was  not  happy.  She  had  not  been 
cleared.  She  bought  and  dispersed  bibles,  contrib 
uted  more  money  to  the  plate,  contralto'd  gloriously 
in  all  the  hymns,  but  would  not  tell  her  soul.  In 
vain  Abel  Ah  Yo  wrestled  with  her.  She  would  not 
go  down  on  her  knees  at  the  penitent  form  and  voice 
the  things  of  tarnish  within  her  —  the  ill  things  of 
good  friends  of  the  old  days.  '  You  cannot  serve 
two  masters,"  Abel  Ah  Yo  told  her.  "  Hell  is  full 


84  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

of  those  who  have  tried.  Single  of  heart  and  pure 
of  heart  must  you  make  your  peace  with  God.  Not 
until  you  tell  your  soul  to  God  right  out  in  meeting 
will  you  be  ready  for  redemption.  In  the  meantime 
you  will  suffer  the  canker  of  the  sin  you  carry  about 
within  you." 

Scientifically,  though  he  did  not  know  it  and 
though  he  continually  jeered  at  science,  Abel  Ah  Yo 
was  right.  Not  could  she  be  again  as  a  child  and 
become  radiantly  clad  in  God's  grace,  until  she  had 
eliminated  from  her  soul,  by  telling  all  the  sophisti 
cations  that  had  been  hers,  including  those  she  shared 
with  others.  In  the  Protestant  way,  she  must  bare 
her  soul  in  public,  as  in  the  Catholic  way  it  was  done 
in  the  privacy  of  the  confessional.  The  result  of 
such  baring  would  be  unity,  tranquillity,  happiness, 
cleansing,  redemption,  and  immortal  life. 

"  Choose!  "  thundered  Abel  Ah  Yo.  "  Loyalty 
to  God  or  loyalty  to  man."  And  Alice  could  not 
choose.  Too  long  had  she  kept  her  tongue  locked 
with  the  honor  of  man.  "  I  will  tell  all  my  soul 
about  myself,"  she  contended.  "  God  knows  I  am 
tired  of  my  soul  and  should  like  to  have  it  clean 
and  shining  once  again  as  when  I  was  a  little  girl  at 
Kaneohe."  "  But  all  the  corruption  of  your  soul 
has  been  with  other  souls,"  was  Abel  Ah  Yo's  in 
variable  reply;  "when  you  have  a  burden,  lay  it 
down.  You  cannot  bear  a  burden  and  be  quit  of  it 
at  the  same  time." 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       85 

"  I  will  pray  to  God  each  day,  and  many  times 
each  day,"  she  urged.  "  I  will  approach  God  with 
humility,  with  sighs  and  with  tears.  I  will  con 
tribute  often  to  the  plate,  and  I  will  buy  bibles, 
bibles,  bibles  without  end." 

"  And  God  will  not  smile  upon  you,"  God's  mouth 
piece  retorted.  "  And  you  will  remain  weary  and 
heavy  laden.  For  you  will  not  have  told  all  your 
sin,  and  not  until  you  have  told  all  will  you  be  rid  of 
any." 

"  This  rebirth  is  difficult,"  Alice  sighed. 

"  Rebirth  is  even  more  difficult  than  birth,"  Abel 
Ah  Yo  did  anything  but  comfort  her.  "  '  Not  until 
you  become  as  a  little  child.  .  .  .'  ' 

"  If  ever  I  tell  my  soul,  it  will  be  a  big  telling," 
she  confided. 

"  The  bigger  the  reason  to  tell  it  then." 

And  so  the  situation  remained  at  deadlock,  Abel 
Ah  Yo  demanding  absolute  allegiance  to  God,  and 
Alice  Akana  flirting  on  the  fringes  of  paradise. 

u  You  bet  it  will  be  a  big  telling,  if  Alice  ever 
begins,"  the  beach-combing  and  disreputable  kama- 
alnas  (old-timers)  gleefully  told  one  another  over 
their  Palm  Tree  gin. 

In  the  clubs  the  possibility  of  her  telling  was  of 
more  moment.  The  younger  generation  of  men 
announced  that  they  had  applied  for  front  seats 
at  the  telling,  while  many  of  the  older  generation  of 
men  joked  hollowly  about  the  conversion  of  Alice. 


86  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Further,  Alice  found  herself  abruptly  popular  with 
friends  who  had  forgotten  her  existence  for  twenty 
years. 

One  afternoon,  as  Alice,  bible  in  hand,  was  taking 
the  electric  street  car  at  Hotel  and  Fort,  Cyrus 
Hodge,  sugar  factor  and  magnate,  ordered  his 
chauffeur  to  stop  beside  her.  Willy-nilly,  in  excess 
of  friendliness,  he  had  her  into  his  limousine  beside 
him  and  went  three  quarters  of  an  hour  out  of  his 
way  and  time  personally  to  conduct  her  to  her  des 
tination. 

"  Good  for  sore  eyes  to  see  you,"  he  burbled. 
"  How  the  years  fly !  You're  looking  fine.  The  se 
cret  of  youth  is  yours." 

Alice  smiled  and  complimented  in  return  in  the 
royal  Polynesian  wray  of  friendliness. 

"  My,  my,"  Cyrus  Hodge  reminisced.  "  I  was 
such  a  boy  in  those  days !  " 

"  Some  boy,"  she  laughed  acquiescence. 

"  But  knowing  no  more  than  the  foolishness  of  a 
boy  in  those  long-ago  days." 

"  Remember  the  night  your  hack-driver  got  drunk 
and  left  you  — " 

"  S-s-sh !  "  he  cautioned.  "  That  Jap  driver  is  a 
high-school  graduate  and  knows  more  English  than 
either  of  us.  Also,  I  think  he  is  a  spy  for  his  gov 
ernment.  So  why  should  we  tell  him  anything? 
Besides,  I  was  so  very  young.  You  remember  .  .  ." 

"  Your  cheeks  were  like  the  peaches  we  used  to 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       87 

grow  before  the  Mediterranean  fruit  fly  got  into 
them,"  Alice  agreed.  "  I  don't  think  you  shaved 
more  than  once  a  week  then.  You  were  a  pretty 
boy.  Don't  you  remember  the  hula  we  composed 
in  your  honor,  the  — 

"S-s-sh!"  he  hushed  her.  "All  that's  buried 
and  forgotten.  May  it  remain  forgotten." 

And  she  was  aware  that  in  his  eyes  was  no  longer 
any  of  the  ingenuousness  of  youth  she  remembered. 
Instead,  his  eyes  were  keen  and  speculative,  search 
ing  into  her  for  some  assurance  that  she  would  not 
resurrect  his  particular  portion  of  that  buried  past. 

'  Religion  is  a  good  thing  for  us  as  we  get  along 
into  middle  age,"  another  old  friend  told  her.  He 
was  building  a  magnificent  house  on  Pacific  Heights, 
had  but  recently  married  a  second  time,  and  was 
even  then  on  his  way  to  the  steamer  to  welcome  home 
his  two  daughters  just  graduated  from  Vassar. 
'  We  need  religion  in  our  old  age,  Alice.  It  softens, 
makes  us  more  tolerant  and  forgiving  of  the  weak 
nesses  of  others;  especially  the  weaknesses  of  youth 
of --of  others,  when  they  played  high  and  low 
and  didn't  know  what  they  were  doing." 

He  waited  anxiously. 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  We  are  all  born  to  sin,  and 
it  is  hard  to  grow  out  of  sin.  But  I  grow.  I 
grow." 

;'  Don't  forget,  Alice,  in  those  other  days  I  always 
played  square.  You  and  I  never  had  a  falling  out." 


88  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  Not  even  the  night  you  gave  that  luau  when  you 
were  twenty-one  and  insisted  on  breaking  the  glass 
ware  after  every  toast.  But  of  course  you  paid  for 
it." 

"  Handsomely,"  he  asserted  almost  pleadingly. 

"  Handsomely,"  she  agreed.  "  I  replaced  more 
than  double  the  quantity  with  what  you  paid  me, 
so  that  at  the  next  luau  I  catered  one  hundred  and 
twenty  plates  without  having  to  rent  or  borrow  a 
dish  or  glass.  Lord  Mainweather  gave  that  luau 
—  you  remember  him." 

"  I  was  pigsticking  with  him  at  Mana,"  the  other 
nodded.  "  We  were  at  a  two  weeks'  house  party 
there.  But  say,  Alice,  as  you  know,  I  think  this 
religion  stuff  is  all  right  and  better  than  all  right. 
But  don't  let  it  carry  you  off  your  feet.  And  don't 
get  to  telling  your  soul  on  me.  What  would  my 
daughters  think  of  that  broken  glassware !  " 

"  I  always  did  have  an  aloha  (warm  regard)  for 
you,  Alice,"  a  member  of  the  Senate,  fat  and  bald- 
headed,  assured  her. 

And  another,  a  lawyer  and  a  grandfather :  "  We 
were  always  friends,  Alice.  And  remember,  any 
legal  advice  or  handling  of  business  you  may  re 
quire  I'll  do  for  you  gladly,  and  without  fees,  for 
the  sake  of  our  old-time  friendship." 

Came  a  banker  to  her  late  Christmas  Eve,  with 
formidable,  legal-looking  envelopes  in  his  hand 
which  he  presented  to  her. 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       89 

"  Quite  by  chance,"  he  explained,  "  when  my  peo 
ple  were  looking  up  land  records  in  lapio  Valley,  I 
found  a  mortgage  of  two  thousand  on  your  holdings 
there  —  that  rice  land  leased  to  Ah  Chin.  And  my 
mind  drifted  back  to  the  past  when  we  were  all 
young  together,  and  wild,  a  bit  wild,  to  be  sure. 
And  my  heart  warmed  with  the  memory  of  you, 
and,  so,  just  as  an  aloha,  here's  the  whole  thing 
cleared  off  for  you." 

Nor  was  Alice  forgotten  by  her  own  people. 
Her  house  became  a  Mecca  for  native  men  and 
women,  usually  performing  pilgrimage  privily  after 
darkness  fell,  with  presents  always  in  their  hands  — 
squid  fresh  from  the  reef,  opihis  and  limu,  baskets  of 
alligator  pears,  roasting  corn  of  the  earliest  from 
windward  Oahu,  mangos  and  star  apples,  taro  pink 
and  royal  of  the  finest  selection,  sucking  pigs, 
banana  poi,  breadfruit,  and  crabs  caught  the  very 
day  from  Pearl  Harbor.  Mary  Mendafia,  wife  of 
the  Portuguese  consul,  remembered  her  with  a  five- 
dollar  box  of  candy  and  a*  mandarin  coat  that  would 
have  fetched  three  quarters  of  a  hundred  dollars  at 
a  fire  sale.  And  Elvira  Miyahara  Makaena  Yin 
Gap,  the  wife  of  Yin  Gap,  the  wealthy  Chinese  im 
porter,  brought  personally  to  Alice  two  entire  bolts 
of  pina  cloth  from  the  Philippines  and  a  dozen  pairs 
of  silk  stockings. 

The  time  passed,  and  Abel  Ah  Yo  struggled  with 
Alice  for  a  properly  penitent  heart,  and  Alice  strug- 


90  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

gled  with  herself  for  her  soul,  while  half  of  Hono 
lulu  wickedly  or  apprehensively  hung  on  the  out 
come.  Carnival  Week  was  over,  polo  and  the  races 
had  come  and  gone,  and  the  celebration  of  Fourth 
of  July  was  ripening,  ere  Abel  Ah  Yo  beat  down  by 
brutal  psychology  the  citadel  of  her  reluctance.  It 
was  then  that  he  gave  his  famous  exhortation  which 
might  be  summed  up  as  Abel  Ah  Yo's  definition  of 
eternity.  Of  course,  like  Billy  Sunday  on  certain 
occasions,  Abel  Ah  Yo  had  cribbed  the  definition. 
But  no  one  in  the  Islands  knew  it,  and  his  rating  as 
a  revivalist  uprose  a  hundred  per  cent. 

So  successful  was  his  preaching  that  night,  that  he 
reconverted  many  of  his  converts,  who  fell  and 
moaned  about  the  penitent  form  and  crowded  for 
room  amongst  scores  of  new  converts  burned  by 
the  pentecostal  fire,  including  half  a  company  of 
negro  soldiers  from  the  garrisoned  Twenty-fifth  In 
fantry,  a  dozen  troopers  from  the  Fourth  Cavalry 
on  its  way  to  the  Philippines,  as  many  drunken  man- 
of-war's  men,  divers  ladies  from  Iwilei,  and  half 
the  riffraff  of  the  beach. 

Abel  Ah  Yo,  subtly  sympathetic  himself  by  virtue 
of  his  racial  admixture,  knowing  human  nature  like 
a  book  and  Alice  Akana  even  more  so,  knew  just 
what  he  was  doing  when  he  arose  that  memorable 
night  and  exposited  God,  hell,  and  eternity  in  terms 
of  Alice  Akana's  comprehension.  For,  quite  by 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       91 

chance,  he  had  discovered  her  cardinal  weakness. 
First  of  all,  like  all  Polynesians,  an  ardent  lover  of 
nature,  he  found  that  earthquake  and  volcanic  erup 
tion  were  the  things  of  which  Alice  lived  in  terror. 
She  had  been,  in  the  past,  on  the  Big  Island,  through 
cataclysms  that  had  shaken  grass  houses  down  upon 
her  while  she  slept,  and  she  had  beheld  Madame  Pele 
fling  red-fluxing  lava  down  the  long  slopes  of  Mauna 
Loa,  destroying  fish  ponds  on  the  sea  brim  and  lick 
ing  up  droves  of  beef  cattle,  villages,  and  humans  on 
her  fiery  way. 

The  night  before,  a  slight  earthquake  had  shaken 
Honolulu  and  given  Alice  Akana  insomnia.  And 
the  morning  papers  had  stated  that  Mauna  Kea  had 
broken  into  eruption,  while  the  lava  was  rising  rap 
idly  in  the  great  pit  of  Kilauea.  So,  at  the  meet 
ing,  her  mind  vexed  between  the  terrors  of  this 
world  and  the  delights  of  the  eternal  world  to 
come,  Alice  sat  down  in  a  front  seat  in  a  very  defi 
nite  state  of  the  "  jumps." 

And  Abel  Ah  Yo  arose  and  put  his  finger  on  the 
sorest  part  of  her  soul.  Sketching  the  nature  of  God 
in  the  stereotyped  way,  but  making  the  stereotyped 
alive  again  with  his  gift  of  tongues  in  pidgin  Eng 
lish  and  pidgin  Hawaiian,  Abel  Ah  Yo  described  the 
day  when  the  Lord,  even  His  infinite  patience  at  an 
end,  would  tell  Peter  to  close  his  day  book  and 
ledgers,  command  Gabriel  to  summon  all  souls  to 


92  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

judgment,  and  cry  out  with  a  voice  of  thunder: 
"  Welakahao!" 

This  anthropomorphic  deity  of  Abel  Ah  Yo  thun 
dering  the  modern  Hawaiian-English  slang  of 
welakahao  at  the  end  of  the  world  is  a  fair  sample 
of  the  revivalists'  speech  tools  of  discourse.  Wela 
kahao  means  literally,  "  hot  iron."  It  was  coined  in 
the  Honolulu  Iron  Works  by  the  hundreds  of  Ha 
waiian  men  there  employed,  who  meant  by  it  "  to 
hustle,"  "  to  get  a  move  on,"  the  iron  being  hot 
meaning  that  the  time  had  come  to  strike. 

"  And  the  Lord  cried  '  Welakahao,'  and  the  Day 
of  Judgment  began  and  was  over  wikiwiki  (quickly), 
just  like  that;  for  Peter  was  a  better  bookkeeper 
than  any  on  the  Waterhouse  Trust  Company,  Lim 
ited,  and,  further,  Peter's  books  were  true." 

Swiftly  Abel  Ah  Yo  divided  the  sheep  from  the 
goats  and  hastened  the  latter  down  into  hell. 

"  And  now,"  he  demanded,  perforce  his  language 
on  these  pages  being  properly  Englished,  "  what  is 
hell  like?  Oh,  my  friends,  let  me  describe  to  you, 
in  a  little  way,  what  I  have  beheld  with  my  own  eyes 
on  earth  of  the  possibilities  of  hell.  I  was  a  young 
man,  a  boy,  and  I  was  at  Hilo.  Morning  began 
with  earthquake.  Throughout  the  day  the  mighty 
land  continued  to  shake  and  tremble,  till  strong  men 
became  seasick,  and  women  clung  to  the  trees  to 
escape  falling,  and  cattle  were  thrown  down  off 
their  feet.  Myself  I  beheld  a  young  calf  so  thrown. 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       93 

A  night  of  terror  indescribable  followed.  The 
land  was  in  motion  like  a  canoe  in  a  Kona  gale. 
There  was  an  infant  crushed  to  death  by  its  fond 
mother  stepping  upon  it  whilst  fleeing  her  falling 
house. 

u  The  heavens  were  on  fire  above  us.  We  read 
our  bibles  by  the  light  of  the  heavens,  and  the  print 
was  fine  even  for  young  eyes.  Those  missionary  bi 
bles  were  always  too  small  of  print.  Forty  miles 
away  from  us,  the  heart  of  hell  burst  from  the  lofty 
mountains  and  gushed  red  blood  of  fire-melted  rock 
toward  the  sea.  The  heavens  in  vast  conflagra 
tion  and  the  earth  hulaing  beneath  our  feet,  was 
a  scene  too  awful  and  too  majestic  to  be  enjoyed. 
We  could  think  only  of  the  thin  bubble  skin  of  earth 
between  us  and  the  everlasting  lake  of  fire  and 
brimstone,  and  of  God  to  whom  we  prayed  to  save 
us.  There  were  earnest  and  devout  souls  who  there 
and  then  promised  their  pastors  to  give  not  their 
shaved  tithes,  but  five  tenths  of  their  all  to  the 
church  if  only  the  Lord  would  let  them  live  to  con 
tribute. 

"  Oh,  my  friends,  God  saved  us.  But  first  he 
showed  us  a  foretaste  of  that  hell  that  will  yawn 
for  us  on  the  last  day  when  he  cries  '  Welakahao !  ' 
in  a  voice  of  thunder.  When  the  iron  is  hot! 
Think  of  it !  When  the  iron  is  hot  for  sinners ! 

''  By  the  third  day,  things  being  much  quieter,  my 
friend  the  preacher  and  I,  being  calm  in  the  hand 


94  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

of  God,  journeyed  up  Mauna  Loa  and  gazed  into 
the  awful  pit  of  Kilauea.  We  gazed  down  into  the 
fathomless  abyss  to  the  lake  of  fire  far  below,  roar 
ing  and  dashing  its  fiery  spray  into  billows  and 
fountaining  hundreds  of  feet  into  the  air  like  Fourth 
of  July  fireworks  you  have  all  seen,  and  all  the  while 
we  were  suffocating  and  made  dizzy  by  the  immense 
volumes  of  smoke  and  brimstone  ascending. 

"  And  I  say  unto  you,  no  pious  person  could  gaze 
down  upon  that  scene  without  recognizing  fully  the 
bible  picture  of  the  Pit  of  Hell.  Believe  me,  the 
writers  of  the  New  Testament  had  nothing  on  us. 
As  for  me,  my  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  exhibition 
before  me,  and  I  stood  mute  and  trembling  under  a 
sense  never  before  so  fully  realized  of  the  power, 
the  majesty,  and  terror  of  Almighty  God  —  the  re 
sources  of  his  wrath,  and  the  untold  horrors  of  the 
finally  impenitent  who  do  not  tell  their  souls  and 
make  their  peace  with  the  Creator.1 

"  But  oh,  my  friends,  think  you  our  guides,  our  na 
tive  attendants,  deep-sunk  in  heathenism,  were  af 
fected  by  such  a  scene?  No.  The  devil's  hand  was 
upon  them.  Utterly  regardless  and  unimpressed, 
they  were  only  careful  about  their  supper,  chatted 
about  their  raw  fish,  and  stretched  themselves  upon 
their  mats  to  sleep.  Children  of  the  devil  they  were, 
insensible  to  the  beauties,  the  sublimities,  and  the  aw- 

1  See  Dibble's  "  A  History  of  the  Sandwich  Islands." 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       95 

ful  terror  of  God's  works.  But  you  are  not  heathen 
I  now  address.  What  is  a  heathen?  He  is  one 
who  betrays  a  stupid  insensibility  to  every  elevated 
idea  and  to  every  elevated  emotion.  If  you  wish 
to  awaken  his  attention,  do  not  bid  him  to  look  down 
into  the  Pit  of  Hell.  But  present  him  with  a  cala 
bash  of  poi,  a  raw  fish,  or  invite  him  to  some  low, 
groveling,  and  sensuous  sport.  Oh,  my  friends,  how 
lost  are  they  to  all  that  elevates  the  immortal  soul! 
But  the  preacher  and  I,  sad  and  sick  of  heart  for 
them,  gazed  down  into  hell.  Oh,  my  friends,  it  was 
hell,  the  hell  of  the  Scriptures,  the  hell  of  eternal 
torment  for  the  undeserving  .  .  ." 

Alice  Akana  was  in  an  ecstasy  or  hysteria  of  ter 
ror.  She  was  mumbling  incoherently:  "  O  Lord, 
I  will  give  nine-tenths  of  my  all.  I  will  give  all. 
I  will  give  even  the  two  bolts  of  piria  cloth,  the  man 
darin  coat,  and  the  entire  dozen  silk  stockings  .  .  ." 

By  the  time  she  could  lend  ear  again,  Abel  Ah 
Yo  was  launching  out  on  his  famous  definition  of 
eternity. 

"  Eternity  is  a  long  time,  my  friends.  God  lives, 
and,  therefore,  God  lives  inside  eternity.  And  God 
is  very  old.  The  fires  of  hell  are  as  old  and  as 
everlasting  as  God.  How  else  could  there  be  ever 
lasting  torment  for  those  sinners  cast  down  by  God 
into  the  Pit  on  the  Last  Day  to  burn  forever  and 
forever  through  all  eternity?  Oh,  my  friends,  your 
minds  are  small  —  too  small  to  grasp  eternity.  Yet 


96  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

is  it  given  to  me,  by  God's  grace,  to  convey  to  you 
an  understanding  of  a  tiny  bit  of  eternity. 

"  The  grains  of  sand  on  the  beach  of  Waikiki 
are  as  many  as  the  stars,  and  more.  No  man  may 
count  them.  Did  he  have  a  million  lives  in  which 
to  count  them,  he  would  have  to  ask  for  more  time. 
Now  let  us  consider  a  little,  dinky,  old  minah  bird 
with  one  broken  wing  that  cannot  fly.  At  Waikiki 
the  minah  bird  that  cannot  fly  takes  one  grain  of 
sand  in  its  beak  and  hops,  hops,  all  day  long  and 
for  many  days,  all  the  way  to  Pearl  Harbor  and 
drops  that  one  grain  of  sand  into  the  harbor.  Then 
it  hops,  hops,  all  day  and  for  many  days,  all  the 
way  back  to  Waikiki  for  another  grain  of  sand. 
And  again  it  hops,  hops  all  the  way  back  to  Pearl 
Harbor.  And  it  continues  to  do  this  through  the 
years  and  centuries  and  the  thousands  and  thousands 
of  centuries,  until,  at  last,  there  remains  not  one 
grain  of  sand  at  Waikiki,  and  Pearl  Harbor  is  filled 
up  with  land  and  growing  cocoanuts  and  pineapples. 
And  then,  oh  my  friends,  even  then,  it  would  not  yet 
be  sunrise  in  hell!  n 

Here,  at  the  smashing  impact  of  so  abrupt  a  cli 
max,  unable  to  withstand  the  sheer  simplicity  and 
objectivity  of  such  artful  measurement  of  a  trifle 
of  eternity,  Alice  Akana's  mind  broke  down  and 
blew  up.  She  uprose,  reeled  blindly,  and  stumbled 
to  her  knees  at  the  penitent  form.  Abel  Ah  Yo 
had  not  finished  his  preaching,  but  it  was  his  gift  to 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL       97 

know  crowd  psychology,  and  to  feel  the  heat  of  the 
Pentecostal  conflagration  that  scorched  his  audience. 
He  called  for  a  rousing  revival  hymn  from  his  sing 
ers,  and  stepped  down  to  wade  among  the  hallelujah- 
shouting  negro  soldiers  to  Alice  Akana.  And,  ere 
the  excitement  began  to  ebb,  nine  tenths  of  his  con 
gregation  and  all  his  converts  were  down  on  knees 
and  praying  and  shouting  aloud  an  immensity  of 
contriteness  and  sin. 

Word  came,  via  telephone,  almost  simultaneously 
to  the  Pacific  and  University  clubs,  that  at  last  Alice 
was  telling  her  soul  in  meeting;  and,  by  private  ma 
chine  and  taxicab,  for  the  first  time  Abel  Ah  Yo's 
revival  was  invaded  by  those  of  caste  and  place. 
The  first  comers  beheld  the  curious  sight  of  Ha 
waiian,  Chinese,  and  all  variegated  racial  mixtures 
of  the  smelting  pot  of  Hawaii,  men  and  women,  fad 
ing  out  and  slinking  away  through  the  exits  of  Abel 
Ah  Yo's  tabernacle.  But  those  who  were  sneaking 
out  were  mostly  men,  while  those  who  remained  were 
avid-faced  as  they  hung  on  Alice's  utterance. 

Never  was  a  more  fearful  and  damning  commun 
ity  narrative  enunciated  in  the  entire  Pacific,  north 
and  south,  than  that  enunciated  by  Alice  Akana,  the 
penitent  Phryne  of  Honolulu. 

"  Huh!  "  the  first  comers  heard  her  saying,  hav 
ing  already  disposed  of  most  of  the  venial  sins  of 
the  lesser  ones  of  her  memory.  "  You  think  this 


9  8  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

man,  Stephen  Makekau,  is  the  son  of  Moses  Make- 
kau  and  Minnie  Ah  Ling  and  has  a  legal  right  to  the 
two  hundred  and  eight  dollars  he  draws  down  each 
month  from  Parke  Richards  Limited  for  the  lease 
of  the  fish  pond  to  Bill  Kong  at  Amana.  Not  so. 
Stephen  Makekau  is  not  the  son  of  Moses.  He  is 
the  son  of  Aaron  Kama  and  Tillie  Naone.  He  was 
given  as  a  present,  as  a  feeding  child,  to  Moses  and 
Minnie  by  Aaron  and  Tillie.  I  know.  Moses  and 
Minnie  and  Aaron  and  Tillie  are  dead.  Yet  I  know 
and  can  prove  it.  Old  Mrs.  Poepoe  is  still  alive. 
I  was  present  when  Stephen  was  born,  and  in  the 
nighttime,  when  he  was  two  months  old,  I  myself 
carried  him  as  a  present  to  Moses  and  Minnie,  and 
old  Mrs.  Poepoe  carried  the  lantern.  This  secret 
has  been  one  of  my  sins.  It  has  kept  me  from  God. 
Now  I  am  free  of  it.  Young  Archie  Makekau,  who 
collects  bills  for  the  Gas  Company  and  plays  baseball 
in  the  afternoons,  and  drinks  too  much  gin,  should 
get  that  two  hundred  and  eight  dollars  the  first  of 
each  month  from  Parke  Richards  Limited.  He  will 
blow  it  in  on  gin  and  a  Ford  automobile.  Stephen 
is  a  good  man.  Archie  is  no  good.  Also  he  is  a 
liar,  and  he  has  served  two  sentences  on  the  reef, 
and  was  in  reform  school  before  that.  Yet  God  de 
mands  the  truth,  and  Archie  will  get  the  money  and 
make  a  bad  use  of  it." 

And  in  such  fashion  Alice  rambled  on  through  the 
experiences  of  her  long  and  full-packed  life.     And 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL      99 

women  forgot  they  were  in  the  tabernacle,  and  men, 
too,  and  faces  darkened  with  passion  as  they  learned 
for  the  first  time  the  long-buried  secrets  of  their 
other  halves. 

*  The  lawyers'  offices  will  be  crowded  to-morrow 
morning,"  Macllwaine,  chief  of  detectives,  paused 
long  enough  from  storing  away  useful  information 
to  lean  and  mutter  in  Colonel  Stilton's  ear. 

Colonel  Stilton  grinned  affirmation,  although  the 
chief  of  detectives  could  not  fail  to  note  the  ghastli- 
ness  of  the  grin. 

'  There  is  a  banker  in  Honolulu.  You  all  know 
his  name.  He  is  'way  up,  swell  society  because  of 
his  wife.  He  owns  much  stock  in  General  Planta 
tions  and  Interisland." 

Macllwaine  recognized  the  growing  portrait  and 
forbore  to  chuckle. 

"  His  name  is  Colonel  Stilton.  Last  Christmas 
Eve  he  came  to  my  house  with  big  aloha  and  gave 
me  mortgages  on  my  land  in  lapio  Valley,  all  can 
celed,  for  two  thousand  dollars'  worth.  Now  why 
did  he  have  such  big  cash  aloha  for  me?  I  will  tell 
you  .  .  ." 

And  tell  she  did,  throwing  the  searchlight  on  an 
cient  business  transactions  and  political  deals  which 
from  their  inception  had  lurked  in  the  dark. 

'  This,"  Alice  concluded  the  episode,  "  has  long 
been  a  sin  upon  my  conscience  and  kept  my  heart 
from  God. 


ioo          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  And  Harold  Miles  was  that  time  President  of 
the  Senate,  and  next  week  he  bought  three  town 
lots  at  Pearl  Harbor,  and  painted  his  Honolulu 
house,  and  paid  up  his  back  dues  in  his  clubs.  Also 
the  Ramsay  home  at  Honokiki  was  left  by  will  to 
the  people  if  the  government  would  keep  it  up. 
But  if  the  government,  after  two  years,  did  not  be 
gin  to  keep  it  up,  then  would  it  go  to  the  Ramsay 
heirs,  who  old  Ramsay  hated  like  poison.  Well,  it 
went  to  the  heirs  all  right.  Their  lawyer  was  Char 
ley  Middleton,  and  he  had  me  help  fix  it  with  the 
government  men.  And  their  names  were:"  Six 
names,  from  both  branches  of  the  legislature.  Alice 
recited,  and  added:  "  Maybe  they  all  painted  their 
houses  after  that.  For  the  first  time  have  I  spoken. 
My  heart  is  mighty  lighter  and  softer.  It  has  been 
coated  with  an  armor  of  house  paint  against  the 
Lord.  And  there  is  Harry  Werther.  He  was  in 
the  Senate  that  time.  Everybody  said  bad  things 
about  him  and  he  was  never  reelected.  Yet  his 
house  was  not  painted.  He  was  honest.  To  this 
day  his  house  is  not  painted,  as  everybody  knows. 

"  There  is  Jim  Lokendamper.  He  has  a  bad 
heart.  I  heard  him,  only  last  week,  right  here  be 
fore  you  all,  tell  his  soul.  He  did  not  tell  all  his 
soul,  and  he  lied  to  God.  I  am  not  lying  to  God. 
It  is  a  big  telling,  but  I  am  telling  everything.  Now 
Azalea  Akau,  sitting  right  over  there,  is  his  wife. 
But  Lizzie  Lokendamper  is  his  married  wife.  A 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL     101 

long  time  ago  he  had  the  great  aloha  for  Azalea. 
You  think  her  uncle  who  went  to  California  and 
died  left  her  by  will  that  two  thousand  five  hundred 
dollars  she  got.  Her  uncle  did  not.  I  know.  Her 
uncle  died  broke  in  California,  and  Jim  Loken- 
damper  sent  eighty  dollars  to  California  to  bury 
him.  Jim  Lokendamper  had  a  piece  of  land  in 
Kohala  he  got  from  his  mother's  aunt.  Lizzie,  his 
married  wife,  did  not  know  this.  So  he  sold  it  to 
the  Kohala  Ditch  Company  and  gave  the  twenty- 
five  hundred  to  Azalea  Akau  — " 

Here,  Lizzie,  the  married  wife,  upstood  like  a 
fury  long  thwarted,  and,  in  lieu  of  her  husband,  al 
ready  fled,  flung  herself  tooth  and  nail  on  Azalea. 

"Wait,  Lizzie  Lokendamper!"  Alice  cried  out. 
"  I  have  much  weight  of  you  on  my  heart,  and  some 
house  paint,  too  .  .  ." 

And  when  she  had  finished  her  disclosure  of  how 
Lizzie  had  painted  her  house,  Azalea  was  up  and 
raging. 

"  Wait,  Azalea  Akau.  I  shall  now  lighten  my 
heart  about  you.  And  it  is  not  house  paint.  Jim 
always  paid  that.  It  is  your  new  bathtub  and  mod 
ern  plumbing  that  is  heavy  on  me  .  .  ." 

Worse,  much  worse,  about  many  and  sundry,  did 
Alice  Akana  have  to  say,  cutting  high  in  business, 
financial  and  social  life,  as  \vell  as  low.  None  was 
too  high  nor  too  low  to  escape;  and  not  until  two 
in  the  morning,  before  an  entranced  audience  that 


'io2  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

packed  the  tabernacle  to  the  doors,  did  she  complete 
her  recital  of  the  personal  and  detailed  iniquities 
she  knew  of  the  community  in  which  she  had  lived 
intimately  all  her  days.  Just  as  she  was  finishing, 
she  remembered  more. 

"  Huh!  "  she  sniffed.  "  I  gave  last  week  one  lot 
worth  eight  hundred  dollars  cash  market  price  to 
Abel  Ah  Yo  to  pay  running  expenses  and  add  up  in 
Peter's  account  books  in  heaven.  Where  did  I  get 
that  lot?  You  all  think  Mr.  Fleming  Jason  is  a 
good  man.  He  is  more  crooked  than  the  entrance 
was  to  Pearl  Lochs  before  the  United  States  Gov 
ernment  straightened  the  channel.  He  has  liver 
disease  now;  but  his  sickness  is  a  judgment  of  God, 
and  he  will  die  crooked.  Mr.  Fleming  Jason  gave 
me  that  lot  twenty-two  years  ago  when  its  cash  mar 
ket  price  was  thirty-five  dollars.  Because  his  aloha 
for  me  was  big?  No.  He  never  had  aloha  inside 
of  him  except  for  dollars. 

'  You  listen.  Mr.  Fleming  Jason  put  a  great 
sin  upon  me.  When  Frank  Lomiloli  was  at  my 
house,  full  of  gin,  for  which  gin  Mr.  Fleming  Jason 
paid  me  in  advance  five  times  over,  I  got  Frank 
Lomiloli  to  sign  his  name  to  the  sale  paper  of 
his  town  land  for  one  hundred  dollars.  It  was 
worth  six  hundred  then.  It  is  worth  twenty  thou 
sand  now.  Maybe  you  want  to  know  where  that 
town  land  is.  I  will  tell  you  and  remove  it  off  my 
heart.  It  is  on  King  Street,  where  is  now  the 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL     103 

Come  Again  Saloon,  the  Japanese  Taxicab  Com 
pany  Garage,  the  Smith  &  Wilson  plumbing  shop, 
and  the  Ambrosia  Ice  Cream  Parlors,  with  the  two 
more  stories  big  Addison  Lodging  House  overhead. 
And  it  is  all  wood,  and  always  has  been  well  painted. 
Yesterday  they  started  painting  it  again.  But  that 
paint  will  not  stand  between  me  and  God.  There 
are  no  more  paint  pots  between  me  and  my  path  to 
heaven." 

The  morning  and  evening  papers  of  the  day  fol 
lowing  held  an  unholy  hush  on  the  greatest  news 
story  of  years;  but  Honolulu  was  half  a-giggle  and 
half  aghast  at  the  whispered  reports,  not  always 
basely  exaggerated,  that  circulated  wherever  two 
Honoluluans  chanced  to  meet. 

"  Our  mistake,"  said  Colonel  Chilton,  at  the  club, 
"  was  that  we  did  not,  at  the  very  first,  appoint  a 
committee  of  safety  to  keep  track  of  Alice's  soul." 

Bob  Cristy,  one  of  the  younger  islanders,  burst 
into  laughter  so  pointed  and  so  loud  that  the  mean 
ing  of  it  was  demanded. 

u  Oh,  nothing  much,"  was  his  reply.  "  But  I 
heard,  on  my  way  here,  that  old  John  Ward  had 
just  been  run  in  for  drunken  and  disorderly  conduct 
and  for  resisting  an  officer.  Now  Abel  Ah  Yo  fine- 
tooth  combs  the  police  court.  He  loves  nothing 
better  than  soul-snatching  a  chronic  drunkard." 

Colonel   Chilton  looked  at  Lask  Finneston,  and 


io4          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

both  looked  at  Gary  Wilkinson.  He  returned  to 
them  a  similar  look. 

"  The  old  beach  comber!  "  Lask  Finneston  cried. 
"  The  drunken  old  reprobate !  I'd  forgotten  he  was 
alive.  Wonderful  constitution.  Never  drew  a  so 
ber  breath  except  when  he  was  shipwrecked,  and, 
when  I  remember  him,  into  every  deviltry  afloat. 
He  must  be  going  on  eighty." 

"  He  isn't  far  away  from  it,"  Bob  Cristy  nodded. 
"  Still  beach-combs,  drinks  when  he  gets  the  price, 
and  keeps  all  his  senses,  though  he's  not  spry  and 
has  to  use  glasses  when  he  reads.  And  his  memory 
is  perfect.  Now  if  Abel  Ah  Yo  catches  him  .  .  ." 

Gary  Wilkinson  cleared  his  throat  preliminary  to 
speech. 

"  Now  there's  a  grand  old  man,"  he  said.  "  A 
left-over  from  a  forgotten  age.  Few  of  his  type 
remain.  A  pioneer.  A  true  kamaaina.  Helpless 
and  in  the  hands  of  the  police  in  his  old  age !  We 
should  do  something  for  him  in  recognition  of 
his  yeoman  work  in  Hawaii.  His  old  home,  I 
happen  to  know,  is  Sag  Harbor.  He  hasn't  seen 
it  for  over  half  a  century.  Now  why  shouldn't 
he  be  surprised  to-morrow  morning  by  having  his 
fine  paid  and  by  being  presented  with  return  tickets 
to  Sag  Harbor,  and,  say,  expenses  for  a  year's  trip? 
I  move  a  committee.  I  appoint  Colonel  Chilton, 
Lask  Finneston,  and,  and  myself.  ...  As  for  chair 
man,  who  more  appropriate  than  Lask  Finneston, 


WHEN  ALICE  TOLD  HER  SOUL     105 

who  knew  the  old  gentleman  so  well  in  the  early 
days?  Since  there  is  no  objection,  I  hereby  ap 
point  Lask  Finneston  Chairman  of  the  Committee 
for  the  Purpose  of  Raising  and  Donating  money  to 
Pay  the  Police-court  Fine  and  the  Expenses  of  a 
Year's  Travel  for  that  Noble  Pioneer,  John  Ward, 
in  Recognition  of  a  Lifetime  of  Devotion  of  Energy 
to  the  Upbuilding  of  Hawaii." 
There  was  no  dissent. 

'  The  Committee  will  now  go  into  secret  session," 
said  Lask  Finneston,  arising  and  indicating  the  way 
to  the  library. 

Glen  Ellen,  California, 
August  30,  1916. 


SHIN  BONES 

They  have  gone  down  to  the  pit  with  their  weapons  of 
war,  and  they  have  laid  their  swords  under  their  heads. 

44T  T  was  a  sad  thing  to  see  the  old  lady  revert." 

A  Prince  Akuli  shot  an  apprehensive  glance 
sideward  to  where,  under  the  shade  of  a  kukui  tree, 
an  old  wahine  was  just  settling  herself  to  begin  on 
some  work  in  hand. 

'  Yes,"  he  nodded,  half  sadly  to  me,  "  in  her 
last  years  Hiwilani  went  back  to  the  old  ways  and 
to  the  old  beliefs  —  in  secret,  of  course.  And,  be 
lieve  me,  she  was  some  collector  herself.  You 
should  have  seen  her  bones.  She  had  them  all  about 
her  bedroom,  in  big  jars,  and  they  constituted  most 
all  her  relatives,  except  a  half  dozen  or  so  that 
Kanau  beat  her  out  of  by  getting  to  them  first.  The 
way  the  pair  of  them  used  to  quarrel  about  those 
bones  was  awe-inspiring.  And  it  gave  me  the  creeps, 
when  I  was  a  boy,  to  go  into  that  big,  forever-twi 
light  room  of  hers,  and  know  that  in  this  jar  was 
all  that  remained  of  my  maternal  grand-aunt,  and 
that  in  that  jar  was  my  great-grandfather,  and  that 
in  all  the  jars  were  the  preserved  bone  remnants  of 
the  shadowy  dust  of  the  ancestors  whose  seed  had 
come  down  and  been  incorporated  in  the  living, 

1 06 


SHIN  BONES  107 

breathing  me.  Hiwilani  had  gone  quite  native  at 
the  last,  sleeping  on  mats  on  the  hard  floor  —  she'd 
fired  out  of  the  room  the  great,  royal,  canopied  four- 
poster  that  had  been  presented  to  her  grandmother 
by  Lord  Byron,  who  was  the  cousin  of  the  Don 
Juan  Byron  and  came  here  in  the  frigate  Blonde  in 
1825. 

"  She  went  back  to  all  native  at  the  last,  and  I 
can  see  her  yet,  biting  a  bite  out  of  the  raw  fish 
ere  she  tossed  them  to  her  women  to  eat.  And 
she  made  them  finish  her  poi,  or  whatever  else  she 
did  not  finish  herself.  She  - 

But  he  broke  off  abruptly,  and  by  the  sensitive 
dilation  of  his  nostrils  and  by  the  expression  of  his 
mobile  features  I  saw  that  he  had  read  in  the  air 
and  identified  the  odor  that  offended  him. 

"  Deuce  take  it!  "  he  cried  to  me.  "  It  stinks  to 
heaven.  And  I  shall  be  doomed  to  wear  it  until 
we're  rescued." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  object  of  his  abhor 
rence.  The  ancient  crone  was  making  a  dearest- 
loved  lei  (wreath)  of  the  fruit  of  the  hala,  which 
is  the  screw  pine  or  pandanus  of  the  South  Pacific. 
She  was  cutting  the  many  sections  or  nut  envelopes 
of  the  fruit  into  fluted  bell  shapes  preparatory  to 
stringing  them  on  the  twisted  and  tough  inner  bark 
of  the  hau  tree.  It  certainly  smelled  to  heaven,  but, 
to  me,  a  malachini,  the  smell  was  more  wrine  woody 
and  fruit  juicy  and  not  unpleasant. 


i o8  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Prince  Akuli's  limousine  had  broken  an  axle  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away,  and  he  and  I  had  sought 
shelter  from  the  sun  in  this  veritable  bowery  of  a 
mountain  home.  Humble  and  grass-thatched  was 
the  house,  but  it  stood  in  a  treasure  garden  of  be 
gonias  that  sprayed  their  delicate  blooms  a  score  of 
feet  above  our  heads,  that  were  like  trees,  with  wil 
lowy  trunks  of  trees  as  thick  as  a  man's  arm.  Here 
we  refreshed  ourselves  with  drinking  cocoanuts, 
while  a  cowboy  rode  a  dozen  miles  to  the  nearest 
telephone  and  summoned  a  machine  from  town. 
The  town  itself  we  could  see,  the  Lakanaii  metrop 
olis  of  Olokona,  a  smudge  of  smoke  on  the  shore 
line,  as  we  looked  down  across  the  miles  of  cane 
fields,  the  billow-wreathed  reef  lines,  and  the  blue 
haze  of  ocean  to  where  the  island  of  Oahu  shim 
mered  like  a  dim  opal  on  the  horizon. 

Maui  is  the  Valley  of  Hawaii,  and  Kauai  the  Gar 
den  Isle;  but  Lakanaii,  lying  abreast  of  Oahu,  is 
recognized  in  the  present,  and  was  known  of  old  and 
always  as  the  Jewel  Isle  of  the  group.  Not  the  larg 
est,  nor  nearly  the  smallest,  Lakanaii  is  conceded  by 
all  to  be  the  wildest,  the  most  wildly  beautiful,  and, 
in  its  size,  the  richest  of  all  the  islands.  Its  sugar 
tonnage  per  acre  is  the  highest,  its  mountain  beef 
cattle  the  fattest,  its  rainfall  the  most  generous  with 
out  ever  being  disastrous.  It  resembles  Kauai  in  that 
it  is  the  first  formed  and  therefore  the  oldest  island, 
so  that  it  has  had  time  sufficient  to  break  down  its 


SHIN  BONES  109 

lava  rock  into  the  richest  of  soil,  and  to  erode  the 
canons  between  the  ancient  craters  until  they  are  like 
Grand  Canons  of  the  Colorado,  with  numberless 
waterfalls  plunging  thousands  of  feet  in  the  sheer  or 
dissipating  into  veils  of  vapor  and  evanescing  in 
mid-air  to  descend  softly  and  invisibly  through  a  mir 
age  of  rainbows,  like  so  much  dew  or  gentle  shower, 
upon  the  abyss  floors. 

Yet  Lakanaii  is  easy  to  describe.  But  how  can 
one  describe  Prince  Akuli  ?  To  know  him  is  to  know 
all  Lakanaii  most  thoroughly.  In  addition,  one 
must  know  thoroughly  a  great  deal  of  the  rest  of  the 
world.  In  the  first  place,  Prince  Akuli  has  no  recog 
nized  nor  legal  right  to  be  called  "  Prince."  Fur 
thermore,  "  Akuli  "  means  the  "  squid."  So  that 
Prince  Squid  could  scarcely  be  the  dignified  title  of  the 
straight  descendant  of  the  oldest  and  highest  aliis 
of  Hawaii  —  an  old  and  exclusive  stock,  wherein, 
in  the  ancient  way  of  the  Egyptian  Pharaohs,  broth 
ers  and  sisters  had  even  wed  on  the  throne  for  the 
reason  that  they  could  not  marry  beneath  rank,  that 
in  all  their  known  world  there  was  none  of  higher 
rank,  and  that,  at  every  hazard,  the  dynasty  must  be 
perpetuated. 

I  have  heard  Prince  Akuli's  singing  historians  (in 
herited  from  his  father)  chanting  their  interminable 
genealogies,  by  which  they  demonstrated  that  he  was 
the  highest  alii  in  all  Hawaii.  Beginning  with 
Wakea,  who  is  their  Adam,  and  with  Papa,  their 


no          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Eve,  through  as  many  generations  as  there  are  let 
ters  in  our  alphabet  they  trace  down  to  Nanakaoko, 
the  first  ancestor  born  in  Hawaii  and  whose  wife  was 
Kahihiokalani.  Later,  but  always  highest,  their  gen 
erations  split  from  the  generations  of  Ua,  who  was 
the  founder  of  the  twro  distinct  lines  of  the  Kauai 
and  Oahu  kings. 

In  the  eleventh  century  A.  D.,  by  the  Lakanaii 
historians,  at  the  time  brothers  and  sisters  mated 
because  none  existed  to  exceed  them,  their  rank 
received  a  boost  of  new  blood  of  rank  that  was  next 
to  heaven's  door.  One  Hoikemaha,  steering  by  the 
stars  and  the  ancient  traditions,  arrived  in  a  great 
double  canoe  from  Samoa.  He  married  a  lesser  alii 
of  Lakanaii,  and,  when  his  three  sons  were  grown, 
returned  writh  them  to  Samoa  to  bring  back  his  own 
youngest  brother.  But  with  him  he  brought  back 
Kumi,  the  son  of  Tui  Manua,  which  latter's  rank  was 
highest  in  all  Polynesia  and  barely  second  to  that  of 
the  demigods  and  gods.  So  the  estimable  seed  of 
Kumi,  eight  centuries  before,  had  entered  into  the 
aliis  of  Lakanaii  and  been  passed  down  by  them  in 
the  undeviating  line  to  reposit  in  Prince  Akuli. 

Him  I  first  met,  talking  with  an  Oxford  accent,  in 
the  officers'  mess  of  the  Black  Watch  in  South  Africa. 
This  was  just  before  that  famous  regiment  was  cut  to 
pieces  at  Magersfontein.  He  had  as  much  right  to 
be  in  that  mess  as  he  had  to  his  accent,  for  he  was 
Oxford-educated  and  held  the  Queen's  Commission. 


SHIN  BONES  in 

With  him,  as  his  guest,  taking  a  look  at  the  war,  was 
Prince  Cupid,  so  nicknamed,  but  true  prince  of  all 
Hawaii,  including  Lakanaii,  whose  real  and  legal 
title  was  Prince  Jonah  Kuhio  Kalanianaole  and  who 
might  have  been  the  living  King  of  Hawaii  Nei  had 
it  not  been  for  the  haole  revolution  and  annexa 
tion  —  this,  despite  the  fact  that  Prince  Cupid's  alii 
genealogy  was  lesser  to  the  heaven-boosted  gene 
alogy  of  Prince  Akuli.  For  Prince  Akuli  might 
have  been  King  of  Lakanaii,  and  of  all  Hawaii,  per 
haps,  had  not  his  grandfather  been  soundly  thrashed 
by  the  first  and  greatest  of  the  Kamehamehas. 

This  had  occurred  in  the  year  1810,  in  the  boom 
ing  days  of  the  sandalwood  trade  and  in  the  same 
year  that  the  King  of  Kauai  came  in  and  was  good 
and  ate  out  of  Kamehameha's  hand.  Prince  Akuli's 
grandfather,  in  that  year,  had  received  his  trouncing 
and  subjugating  because  he  was  "  old  school.  "  He 
had  not  imagined  island  empire  in  terms  of  gunpow 
der  and  haole  gunners.  Kamehameha,  farther-vis- 
ioned,  had  annexed  the  service  of  haoles,  including 
such  men  as  Isaac  Davis,  mate  and  sole  survivor  of 
the  massacred  crew  of  the  schooner  Fair  American, 
and  John  Young,  captured  boatswain  of  the  scow 
Eleanor.  And  Isaac  Davis  and  John  Young  and 
others  of  their  waywardly  adventurous  ilk,  with  six- 
pounder  brass  carronades  from  the  captured  Iphi- 
genia  and  Fair  American,  had  destroyed  the  war 
canoes  and  shattered  the  morale  of  the  King  of 


ii2  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Lakanaii's  land  fighters,  receiving  duly  in  return 
from  Kamehameha,  according  to  agreement:  Isaac 
Davis,  six  hundred  mature  and  fat  hogs;  John 
Young,  five  hundred  of  the  same  described  pork  on 
the  hoof  that  was  split. 

And  so,  out  of  all  incests  and  lusts  of  the  primitive 
cultures  and  beast  man's  gropings  toward  the  stature 
of  manhood,  out  of  all  red  murders  and  brute  bat- 
tlings  and  matings  with  the  younger  brothers  of  the 
demigods,  world-polished,  Oxford-accented,  twen 
tieth  century  to  the  tick  of  the  second,  comes  Prince 
Akuli,  Prince  Squid,  pure-veined  Polynesian,  a  living 
bridge  across  the  thousand  centuries,  comrade,  friend 
and  fellow  traveler,  out  of  his  wrecked  seven-thou 
sand-dollar  limousine,  marooned  with  me  in  a  begonia 
paradise  fourteen  hundred  feet  above  the  sea  and  his 
island  metropolis  of  Olokona,  to  tell  me  of  his 
mother  who  reverted  in  her  old  age  to  ancientness  of 
religious  concept  and  ancestor  worship  and  collected 
and  surrounded  herself  with  the  charnel  bones  of 
those  who  had  been  her  forerunners  back  in  the  dark 
ness  of  time. 

"  King  Kalakaua  started  this  collecting  fad.  over 
on  Oahu,"  Prince  Akuli  continued.  "  And  his  queen, 
Kapiolani,  caught  the  fad  from  him.  They  collected 
everything  —  old  makaloa  mats,  old  tapas,  old  cala 
bashes,  old  double  canoes,  and  idols  which  the  priests 
had  saved  from  the  general  destruction  in  1819.  I 
haven't  seen  a  pearl-shell  fishhook  in  years,  but  I 


SHIN  BONES  113 

swear  that  Kalakaua  accumulated  ten  thousand  of 
them,  to  say  nothing  of  human  jawbone  fish  hooks, 
and  feather  cloaks,  and  capes  and  helmets,  and  stone 
adzes,  and  poi  pounders  of  phallic  design.  When  he 
and  Kapiolani  made  their  royal  progresses  around 
the  islands,  their  hosts  had  to  hide  away  their  per 
sonal  relics.  For  to  the  king,  in  theory,  belongs  all 
property  of  his  people,  and  with  Kalakaua,  when  it 
came  to  the  old  things,  theory  and  practice  were  one. 

"  From  him  my  father,  Kanau,  got  the  collecting 
bee  in  his  bonnet,  and  Hiwilani  was  likewise  infected. 
But  father  was  modern  to  his  finger  tips.  He  be 
lieved  neither  in  the  gods  of  the  kahunas  (priests) 
nor  of  the  missionaries.  He  didn't  believe  in  any 
thing  except  sugar  stocks,  horse  breeding,  and  that 
his  grandfather  had  been  a  fool  in  not  collecting  a 
few  Isaac  Davises  and  John  Youngs  and  brass  car- 
ronades  before  he  went  to  war  with  Kamehameha. 
So  he  collected  curios  in  the  pure  collector's  spirit; 
but  my  mother  took  it  seriously.  That  was  why  she 
went  in  for  bones.  I  remember,  too,  she  had  an  ugly 
old  stone  idol  she  used  to  yammer  to  and  crawl 
around  on  the  floor  before.  It's  in  the  Deacon  Mu 
seum  now.  I  sent  it  there  after  her  death,  and  her 
collection  of -bones  to  the  Royal  Mausoleum  in  Olo- 
kona. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  you  remember  her  father 
was  Kaaukuu.  Well,  he  was,  and  he  was  a  giant. 
When  they  built  the  Mausoleum,  his  bones,  nicely 


n4          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

cleaned  and  preserved,  were  dug  out  of  their  hiding 
place  and  placed  in  the  Mausoleum.  Hiwilani  had 
an  old  retainer,  Ahuna.  She  stole  the  key  from  Ka- 
nau  one  night,  and  made  Ahuna  go  and  steal  her  fa 
ther's  bones  out  of  the  Mausoleum.  I  know.  And 
he  must  have  been  a  giant.  She  kept  him  in  one  of 
her  big  jars.  One  day,  when  I  was  a  tidy  size  of  a 
lad  and  curious  to  know  if  Kaaukuu  was  as  big  as 
tradition  had  him,  I  fished  his  intact  lower  jaw  out  of 
the  jar  and  the  wrappings  and  tried  it  on.  I  stuck  my 
head  right  through  it,  and  it  rested  around  my  neck 
and  on  my  shoulders  like  a  horse  collar.  And  every 
tooth,  was  in  the  jaw,  whiter  than  porcelain,  without 
a  cavity,  the  enamel  unstained  and  unchipped.  I  got 
the  walloping  of  my  life  for  that  offense,  although 
she  had  to  call  old  Ahuna  in  to  help  give  it  to  me. 
But  the  incident  served  me  well.  It  won  her  confi 
dence  in  me  that  I  was  not  afraid  of  the  bones  of  the 
dead  ones,  and  it  won  for  me  my  Oxford  education. 
As  you  shall  see,  if  that  car  doesn't  arrive  first. 

"  Old  Ahuna  was  one  of  the  real  old  ones  with  the 
hall  mark  on  him  and  branded  into  him  of  faithful 
born-slave  service.  He  knew  more  about  my  moth 
er's  family,  and  my  father's,  than  did  both  of  them 
put  together.  And  he  knew,  what  no  living  other 
knew,  the  burial  place  of  centuries  where  were  hid 
the  bones  of  most  of  her  ancestors  and  of  Kanau's. 
Kanau*  couldn't  worm  it  out  of  the  old  fellow,  who 
looked  upon  Kanau  as  an  apostate. 


SHIN  BONES  115 

"  Hiwilani  struggled  with  the  old  codger  for  years. 
How  she  ever  succeeded  is  beyond  me.  Of  course, 
on  the  face  of  it,  she  was  faithful  to  the  old  religion. 
This  might  have  persuaded  Ahuna  to  loosen  up  a 
little.  Or  she  may  have  jolted  fear  into  him;  for  she 
knew  a  lot  of  the  line  of  chatter  of  the  old  Huni 
sorcerers,  and  she  could  make  a  noise  like  being  on 
terms  of  utmost  intimacy  with  Uli,  who  is  the  chief- 
est  god  of  sorcery  of  all  the  sorcerers.  She  could 
skin  the  ordinary  kahuna  lanaau  (medicine  man) 
when  it  came  to  praying  to  Lonopuha  and  Kolea- 
moku;  read  dreams  and  visions  and  signs  and  omens 
and  indigestions  to  beat  the  band;  make  the  practi 
tioners  under  the  medicine  god,  Maiola,  look  like 
thirty  cents;  pull  off  a  pule  hoe  incantation  that  would 
make  them  dizzy;  and  she  claimed  to  a  practice  of 
kahuna  hoenoho,  which  is  modern  spiritism,  second 
to  none.  I  have  myself  seen  her  drink  the  wind, 
throw  a  fit,  and  prophesy.  The  aumakuas  were 
brothers  to  her  when  she  slipped  offerings  to  them 
across  the  altars  of  the  ruined  heiaus  with  a  line  of 
prayer  that  was  as  unintelligible  to  me  as  it  was  hair- 
raising.  And  as  for  old  Ahuna,  she  could  make  him 
get  down  on  the  floor  and  yammer  and  bite  himself 
when  she  pulled  the  real  mystery  dope  on  him. 

"  Nevertheless,  my  private  opinion  is  that  it  was 
the  anaana  stuff  that  got  him.  She  snipped  off  a  lock 
of  his  hair  one  day  with  a  pair  of  manicure  scissors. 
This  lock  of  hair  was  what  we  call  the  maunu,  mean- 


n6          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

ing  the  bait.  And  she  took  jolly  good  care  to  let 
him  know  she  had  that  bit  of  his  hair.  Then  she 
tipped  it  off  to  him  that  she  had  buried  it,  and  was 
deeply  engaged  each  night  in  her  offerings  and  incan 
tations  to  Uli." 

"That  was  the  regular  praying-to-death?"  I 
queried  in  the  pause  of  Prince  Akuli's  lighting  his 
cigarette. 

"  Sure  thing,"  he  nodded.  "  And  Ahuna  fell  for 
it.  First  he  tried  to  locate  the  hiding  place  of  the 
bait  of  his  hair.  Failing  that,  he  hired  a  pahiuhiu 
sorcerer  to  find  it  for  him.  But  Hiwilani  queered 
that  game  by  threatening  to  the  sorcerer  to  practice 
apo  leo  on  him,  which  is  the  art  of  permanently  de 
priving  a  person  of  the  power  of  speech  without 
otherwise  injuring  him. 

'  Then  it  was  that  Ahuna  began  to  pine  away  and 
get  more  like  a  corpse  every  day.  In  desperation  he 
appealed  to  Kanau.  I  happened  to  be  present.  You 
have  heard  what  sort  of  a  man  my  father  was. 

"'Pig!'  he  called  Ahuna.  'Swine  brains! 
Stinking  fish !  Die  and  be  done  with  it.  You  are 
a  fool.  It  is  all  nonsense.  There  is  nothing  in  any 
thing.  The  drunken  haole,  Howard,  can  prove  the 
missionaries  wrong.  Square-face  gin  proves  How 
ard  wrong.  The  doctors  say  he  won't  last  six 
months.  Even  square-face  gin  lies.  Life  is  a  liar, 
too.  And  here  are  hard  times  upon  us  and  a  slump 
in  sugar.  Glanders  has  got  into  my  brood  mares. 


SHIN  BONES  117 

I  wish  I  could  lie  down  and  sleep  for  a  hundred  years 
and  wake  up  to  find  sugar  up  a  hundred  points.' 

"  Father  was  something  of  a  philosopher  himself, 
with  a  bitter  wit  and  a  trick  of  spitting  out  staccato 
epigrams.  He  clapped  his  hands.  '  Bring  me  a 
high  ball,'  he  commanded;  *  no,  bring  me  two  high 
balls.'  Then  he  turned  on  Ahuna.  '  Go  and  let 
yourself  die,  old  heathen,  survival  of  darkness,  blight 
of  the  pit  that  you  are.  But  don't  die  on  these  prem 
ises.  I  desire  merriment  and  laughter,  and  the  sweet 
tickling  of  music  and  the  beauty  of  youthful  motion, 
not  the  croaking  of  sick  toads  and  googly-eyed 
corpses  about  me  still  afoot  on  their  shaky  legs. 
I'll  be  that  way  soon  enough  if  I  live  long  enough. 
And  it  will  be  my  everlasting  regret  if  I  don't  live 
long  enough.  Why  in  hell  did  I  sink  that  last  twenty 
thousand  into  Curtis's  plantation?  Howard  warned 
me  the  slump  was  coming,  but  I  thought  it  was  the 
square-face  making  him  lie.  And  Curtis  has  blown 
his  brains  out,  and  his  head  luna  has  run  away  with 
his  daughter,  and  the  sugar  chemist  has  got  typhoid, 
and  everything's  going  to  smash.' 

"  He  clapped  his  hands  for  his  servants,  and  com 
manded:  4  Bring  me  my  singing  boys.  And  the 
hula  dancers  —  plenty  of  them.  And  send  for  old 
Howard.  Somebody's  got  to  pay,  and  I'll  shorten 
his  six  months  of  life  by  a  month.  But  above  all, 
music.  Let  there  be  music.  It  is  stronger  than 
drink,  and  quicker  than  opium.' 


n8  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  He  with  his  music  druggery !  It  was  his  father, 
the  old  savage,  who  was  entertained  on  board  a 
French  frigate  and  for  the  first  time  heard  an  orches 
tra.  When  the  little  concert  was  over,  the  captain, 
to  find  which  piece  he  liked  best,  asked  which  piece 
he'd  like  repeated.  Well,  when  grandfather  got 
done  describing,  what  piece  do  you  think  it  was?  " 

I  gave  up,  while  the  prince  lighted  a  fresh  cigar 
ette. 

"  Why,  it  was  the  first  one,  of  course.  Not  the 
real  first  one,  but  the  tuning  up  that  preceded  it." 

I  nodded,  with  eyes  and  face  mirthful  of  apprecia 
tion,  and  Prince  Akuli,  with  another  apprehensive 
glance  at  the  old  wahine  and  her  half-made  hala  lei, 
returned  to  his  tale  of  the  bones  of  his  ancestors. 

"  It  was  somewhere  around  this  stage  of  the  game 
that  old  Ahuna  gave  in  to  Hiwilani.  He  didn't 
exactly  give  in.  He  compromised.  That's  where 
I  come  in.  If  he  would  bring  her  the  bones  of  her 
mother,  and  of  her  grandfather  (who  was  the  father 
of  Kaaukuu,  and  who,  by  tradition,  was  rumored  to 
have  been  even  bigger  than  his  giant  son) ,  she  would 
return  to  Ahuna  the  bait  of  his  hair  she  was  praying 
him  to  death  with.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  stipu 
lated  that  he  was  not  to  reveal  to  her  the  secret 
burial  place  of  all  the  alii  of  Lakanaii  all  the  way 
back.  Nevertheless,  he  was  too  old  to  dare  the 
adventure  alone,  must  be  helped  by  some  one  who  of 
necessity  would  come  to  know  the  secret,  and  I  was 


SHIN  BONES  119 

that  one.      I  was  the  highest  alii,  besides  my  father 
and  mother,  and  they  were  no  higher  than  I. 

"  So  I  came  upon  the  scene,  being  summoned  into 
the  twilight  room  to  confront  those  two  dubious  old 
ones  who  dealt  with  the  dead.  They  were  a  pair !  — 
mother  fat  to  despair  of  helplessness,  Ahuna  thin  as 
a  skeleton  and  as  fragile.  Of  her  one  had  the 
impression  that  if  she  lay  down  on  her  back  she  could 
not  roll  over  without  the  aid  of  block  and  tackle;  of 
Ahuna  one's  impression  was  that  the  tooth-pickedness 
of  him  would  shatter  to  splinters  if  one  bumped  into 
him. 

"  And  when  they  had  broached  the  matter,  there 
was  more  pilikia  (trouble).  My  father's  attitude 
stiffened  my  resolution.  I  refused  to  go  on  the  bone- 
snatching  expedition.  I  said  I  didn't  care  a  whoop 
for  the  bones  of  all  the  aliis  of  my  family  and  race. — 
You  see,  I  had  just  discovered  Jules  Verne,  loaned 
me  by  old  Howard,  and  was  reading  my  head  off. 
Bones?  When  there  were  North  Poles,  and  Centers 
of  earths,  and  hairy  comets  to  ride  across  space 
among  the  stars !  Of  course  I  didn't  want  to  go  on 
any  bone-snatching  expedition.  I  said  my  father  was 
able-bodied,  and  he  could  go,  splitting  equally  with 
her  whatever  bones  he  brought  back.  But  she  said 
he  was  only  a  blamed  collector,  or  words  to  that 
effect  only  stronger. 

'  I  know  him,'  she  assured  me.      '  He'd  bet  his 
mother's  bones  on  a  horse  race  or  an  ace-full.' 


120          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  I  stood  with  father  when  it  came  to  modern 
skepticism,  and  I  told  her  the  whole  thing  was  rub 
bish.  '  Bones?  '  I  said.  '  What  are  bones?  Even 
field  mice,  and  mangy  rats,  and  cockroaches  have 
bones,  though  the  roaches  wear  their  bones  outside 
their  meat  instead  of  inside.  The  difference  between 
man  and  other  animals,'  I  told  her,  *  is  not  bones  but 
brains.  Why,  a  bullock  has  bigger  bones  than  a 
man,  and  more  than  one  fish  I've  eaten  has  more 
bones,  while  a  whale  beats  creation  when  it  comes  to 
bone.' 

"  It  was  frank  talk,  which  is  our  Hawaiian  way, 
as  you  have  long  since  learned.  In  return,  equally 
frank,  she  regretted  she  hadn't  given  me  away  as  a 
feeding  child  when  I  was  born.  Next  she  bewailed 
that  she  had  ever  borne  me.  From  that  it  was  only 
a  step  to  anaana  me.  She  threatened  me  with  it,  and 
I  did  the  bravest  thing  I  have  ever  done.  Old  How 
ard  had  given  me  a  knife  of  many  blades  and  cork 
screws  and  screwdrivers  and  all  sorts  of  contrivances, 
including  a  tiny  pair  of  scissors.  I  proceeded  to  pare 
my  finger  nails. 

"  '  There,'  I  said,  as  I  put  the  parings  into  her 
hand.  '  Just  to  show  you  what  I  think  of  it. 
There's  bait  and  to  spare.  Go  on  and  anaana  me  if 
you  can.' 

:'  I  have  said  it  was  brave.  It  was.  I  was  only 
fifteen,  and  I  had  lived  all  my  days  in  the  thick  of  the 
mystery  stuff,  while  my  skepticism,  very  recently 


SHIN  BONES  121 

acquired,  was  only  skin  deep.  I  could  be  a  skeptic 
out  in  the  open  in  the  sunshine.  But  I  was  afraid  of 
the  dark.  And  in  that  twilight  room,  the  bones  of 
the  dead  all  about  me  in  the  big  jars,  why,  the  old 
lady  had  me  scared  stiff.  As  we  say  to-day,  she  had 
my  goat.  Only  I  was  brave  and  didn't  let  on.  And 
I  put  rny  bluff  across,  for  my  mother  flung  the  par 
ings  into  my  face  and  burst  into  tears.  Tears  in  an 
elderly  woman  weighing  three  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds  are  scarcely  impressive,  and  I  hardened  the 
brassiness  of  my  bluff. 

"  She  shifted  her  attack,  and  proceeded  to  talk 
with  the  dead.  Nay,  more,  she  summoned  them 
there,  and,  though  I  was  all  ripe  to  see  but  couldn't, 
Ahuna  saw  the  father  of  Kaaukuu  in  the  corner  and 
lay  down  on  the  floor  and  yammered.  Just  the  same, 
although  I  almost  saw  the  old  giant,  I  didn't  quite 
see  him. 

"  '  Let  him  talk  for  himself,'  I  said.  But  Hiwilani 
persisted  in  doing  the  talking  for  him  and  in  laying 
upon  me  his  solemn  injunction  that  I  must  go  with 
Ahuna  to  the  burial  place  and  bring  back  the  bones 
desired  by  my  mother.  But  I  argued  that  if  the  dead 
ones  could  be  invoked  to  kill  living  men  by  wasting 
sicknesses,  and  that  if  the  dead  ones  could  transport 
themselves  from  their  burial  crypts  into  the  corner 
of  her  room,  I  couldn't  see  why  they  shouldn't  leave 
their  bones  behind  them,  there  in  her  room  and  ready 
to  be  jarred,  when  they  said  good-by  and  departed 


122  OX  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

for  the  middle  world,  the  over  world',  or  the  under 
world,  or  wherever  they  abided  when  they  weren't 
paying  social  calls. 

"  Whereupon  mother  let  loose  on  poor  old  Ahuna, 
or  let  loose  upon  him  the  ghost  of  Kaaukuu's  father 
supposed  to  be  crouching  there  in  the  corner,  who 
commanded  Ahuna  to  divulge  to  her  the  burial  place. 
I  tried  to  stiffen  him  up,  telling  him  to  let  the  old 
ghost  divulge  the  secret  himself,  than  whom  nobody 
else  knew  it  better  seeing  that  he  had  resided  there 
upwards  of  a  century.  But  Ahuna  was  old  school. 
He  possessed  no  iota  of  skepticism.  The  more 
Hiwilani  frightened  him,  the  more  he  rolled  on  the 
floor  and  the  louder  he  yammered. 

"  But  when  he  began  to  bite  himself,  I  gave  in.  I 
felt  sorry  for  him ;  but,  over  and  beyond  that,  I  began 
to  admire  him.  He  was  sterling  stuff,  even  if  he  was 
a  survival  of  darkness.  Here,  with  the  fear  of  mys 
tery  cruelly  upon  him,  believing  Hiwilani's  dope 
implicitly,  he  was  caught  between  two  fidelities.  She 
was  his  living  alii,  his  alii  kapo  (sacred  chief  ess). 
He  must  be  faithful  to  her,  yet  more  faithful  must  he 
be  to  all  the  dead-and-gone  aliis  of  her  line  who 
depended  solely  on  him  that  their  bones  should  not 
be  disturbed. 

"  I  gave  in.  But  I,  too,  imposed  stipulations. 
Steadfastly  had  my  father,  new  school,  refused  to  let 
me  go  to  England  for  my  education.  That  sugar 
was  slumping  was  reason  sufficient  for  him.  Stead- 


SHIN  BONES  123 

fastly  had  my  mother,  old  school,  refused,  her 
heathen  mind  too  dark  to  place  any  value  on  educa 
tion  while  it  was  shrewd  enough  to  discern  that  edu 
cation  led  to  unbelief  in  all  that  was  old.  I  wanted 
to  study,  to  study  science,  the  arts,  philosophy,  to 
study  everything  old  Howard  knew,  which  enabled 
him,  on  the  edge  of  the  grave,  undauntedly  to  sneer 
at  superstition  and  to  give  me  Jules  Verne  to  read. 
He  was  an  Oxford  man  before  he  went  wild  and 
wrong,  and  it  was  he  who  had  set  the  Oxford  bee 
buzzing  in  my  noddle. 

"  In  the  end  Ahuna  and  I,  old  school  arid  new 
school  leagued  together,  won  out.  Mother  prom 
ised  that  she'd  make  father  send  me  to  England,  even 
if  she  had  to  pester  him  into  a  prolonged  drinking 
hat  would  make  his  digestion  go  back  on  him.  Also, 
Howard  was  to  accompany  me,  so  that  I  could 
decently  bury  him  in  England.  He  was  a  queer  one, 
old  Howard,  an  individual  if  there  ever  was  one. 
Let  me  tell  you  a  little  story  about  him.  It  was  when 
Kalakaua  was  starting  on  his  trip  around  the  world. 
You  remember,  when  Armstrong  and  Judd  and  the 
drunken  valet  of  a  German  baron  accompanied  him. 
Kalakaua  made  the  proposition  to  Howard — " 

But  here  the  long-apprehended  calamity  fell  upon 
Prince  Akuli.  The  old  wahine  had  finished  her  lei 
hala.  Barefooted,  with  no  adornment  of  feminin 
ity,  clad  in  a  shapeless  shift  of  much-washed  cotton, 
with  age-withered  face  and  labor-gnarled  hands,  she 


i24          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

cringed  before  him  and  crooned  a  mele  in  his  honor, 
and,  still  cringing,  put  the  lei  around  his  neck.  It  is 
true,  the  hala  smelled  most  freshly  strong,  yet  was 
the  act  beautiful  to  me,  and  the  old  woman  herself 
beautiful  to  me.  My  mind  leaped  into  the  prince's 
narrative  so  that  to  Ahuna  I  could  not  help  likening 
her. 

Oh,  truly,  to  be  an  alii  in  Hawaii,  even  in  this  sec 
ond  decade  of  the  twentieth  century,  is  no  light  thing. 
The  alii,  utterly  of  the  new,  must  be  kindly  and  kingly 
to  those  old  ones  absolutely  of  the  old.  Nor  did 
the  prince  without  a  kingdom,  his  loved  island  long 
since  annexed  by  the  United  States  and  incorporated 
into  a  territory  along  with  the  rest  of  the  Hawaiian 
Islands  —  nor  did  the  prince  betray  his  repugnance 
for  the  odor  of  the  hala.  He  bowed  his  head 
graciously;  and  his  royal  condescending  words  of 
pure  Hawaiian  I  knew  would  make  the  old  woman's 
heart,  until  she  died,  warm  with  remembrance  of  the 
wonderful  occasion.  The  very  grimace  he  stole  to 
me  would  not  have  been  made  had  he  felt  any  uncer 
tainty  of  its  escaping  her. 

"  And  so,"  Prince  Akuli  resumed,  after  the  wahine 
had  tottered  away  in  an  ecstasy,  "  Ahuna  and  I 
departed  on  our  grave-robbing  adventure.  You 
know  the  Iron-bound  Coast." 

I  nodded,  knowing  full  well  the  spectacle  of  those 
lava  leagues  of  weather  coast,  truly  iron-bound  so 
far  as  landing  places  or  anchorages  were  concerned, 


SHIN  BONES  125 

great  forbidding  cliff  walls  thousands  of  feet  in 
height,  their  summits  wreathed  in  cloud  and  rain 
squall,  their  knees  hammered  by  the  trade-wind  bil 
lows  into  spouting,  spuming  white,  the  air,  from  sea 
to  rain  cloud,  spanned  by  a  myriad  leaping  water 
falls,  provocative,  in  day  or  night,  of  countless  sun 
and  lunar  rainbows.  Valleys,  so  called,  but  fissures, 
rather,  slit  the  cyclopean  walls  here  and  there,  and 
led  away  into  a  lofty  and  madly  vertical  back  coun 
try,  most  of  it  inaccessible  to  the  foot  of  man  and 
trod  only  by  the  wild  goat. 

"  Precious  little  you  know  of  it,"  Prince  Akuli 
retorted,  in  reply  to  my  nod.  "  You've  seen  it  only 
from  the  decks  of  steamers.  There  are  valleys 
there,  inhabited  valleys,  out  of  which  there  is  no  exit 
by  land,  and  perilously  accessible  by  canoe  only  on 
the  selected  days  of  two  months  in  the  year.  When 
I  was  twenty-eight  I  was  over  there  in  one  of  them 
on  a  hunting  trip.  Bad  weather,  in  the  auspicious 
period,  marooned  us  for  three  weeks.  Then  five  of 
my  party  and  myself  swam  for  it  out  through  the 
surf.  Three  of  us  made  the  canoes  waiting  for  us. 
The  other  two  were  flung  back  on  the  sand,  each  with 
a  broken  arm.  Save  for  us,  the  entire  party  re 
mained  there  until  the  next  year  ten  months  after 
ward.  And  one  of  them  was  Wilson,  of  Wilson  & 
Wall,  the  Honolulu  sugar  factors.  And  he  was 
engaged  to  be  married. 

"  I've  seen  a  goat,  shot  down  by  a  hunter  above, 


126          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

land  at  my  feet  a  thousand  yards  underneath. 
Believe  me,  that  landscape  seemed  to  rain  goats  and 
rocks  for  ten  minutes.  One  of  my  canoemen  fell  oft 
the  trail  between  the  two  little  valleys  of  Aipio  and 
Luno.  He  hit  first  fifteen  hundred  feet  beneath  us, 
and  fetched  up  in  a  ledge  three  hundred  feet  farther 
down.  We  didn't  bury  him.  We  couldn't  get  to 
him,  and  flying  machines  had  not  yet  been  invented. 
His  bones  are  there  now,  and,  barring  earthquake 
and  volcano,  will  be  there  when  the  Trumps  of  Judg 
ment  sound. 

"  Goodness  me!  Only  the  other  day,  when  our 
promotion  Committee,  trying  to  compete  with  Hono 
lulu  for  the  tourist  trade,  called  in  the  engineers  to 
estimate  what  it  would  cost  to  build  a  scenic  drive 
around  the  Iron-bound  Coast,  the  lowest  figures  were 
a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars  a  mile ! 

"  And  Ahuna  and  I,  an  old  man  and  a  young  boy, 
started  for  that  stern  coast  in  a  canoe  paddled  by  old 
men !  The  youngest  of  them,  the  steersman,  was 
over  sixty,  while  the  rest  of  them  averaged  seventy 
at  the  very  least.  There  were  eight  of  them,  and  we 
started  in  the  nighttime  so  that  none  should  see  us 
go.  Even  these  old  ones,  trusted  all  their  lives, 
knew  no  more  than  the  fringe  of  the  secret.  To  the 
fringe,  only,  could  they  take  us. 

"  And  the  fringe  was  —  I  don't  mind  telling  that 
much  —  the  fringe  was  Ponuloo  Valley.  We  got 
there  the  third  afternoon  following.  The  old  chaps 


SHIN  BONES  127 

weren't  strong  on  the  paddles.  It  was  a  funny  expe 
dition  into  such  wild  waters,  with  now  one  and  now 
another  of  our  ancient-mariner  crew  collapsing  and 
even  fainting.  One  of  them  actually  died  on  the 
second  morning  out.  We  buried  him  overside.  It 
was  positively  uncanny,  the  heathen  ceremonies  those 
gray  ones  pulled  off  in  burying  their  gray  brother. 
And  I  was  only  fifteen,  alii  kapo  over  them  by  blood 
of  heathenness  and  right  of  hereditary  heathen  rule, 
with  a  penchant  for  Jules  Verne  and  shortly  to  sail 
for  England  for  my  education!  So  one  learns. 
Small  wonder  my  father  was  a  philosopher,  in  his 
own  lifetime  spanning  the  history  of  man  from  human 
sacrifice  and  idol  worship,  through  the  religions  of 
man's  upward  striving,  to  the  Medusa  of  rank  athe 
ism  at  the  end  of  it  all.  Small  wonder  that,  like  old 
Ecclesiastes,  he  found  vanity  in  all  things  and  sur 
cease  in  sugar  stocks,  singing  boys,  and  hula  dancers." 

Prince  Akuli  debated  with  his  soul  for  an  interval. 

u  Oh,  well,"  he  sighed,  "  I  have  done  some  span 
ning  of  time  myself."  He  sniffed  disgustedly  of  the 
odor  of  the  hala  lei  that  stifled  him.  "  It  stinks  of 
the  ancient,"  he  vouchsafed.  "  I  stink  of  the  mod 
ern.  My  father  was  right.  The  sweetest  of  all  is 
sugar  up  a  hundred  points,  or  four  aces  in  a  poker 
game.  If  the  Big  War  lasts  another  year,  I  shall 
clean  up  three  quarters  of  a  million  over  a  million. 
If  peace  breaks  to-morrow,  with  the  consequent 
slump,  I  could  enumerate  a  hundred  who  will  lose  my 


128          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

direct  bounty  and  go  into  the  old  natives'  homes  my 
father  and  I  long  since  endowed  for  them." 

He  clapped  his  hands,  and  the  old  wahine  tottered 
toward  him  in  an  excitement  of  haste  to  serve.  She 
cringed  before  him,  as  he  drew  pad  and  pencil  from 
his  breast  pocket. 

"  Each  month,  old  woman  of  our  old  race,"  he 
addressed  her,  "  will  you  receive,  by  rural  free  deliv 
ery,  a  piece  of  written  paper  that  you  can  exchange 
with  any  storekeeper  anywhere  for  ten  dollars  gold. 
This  shall  be  so  for  as  long  as  you  live.  Behold!  I 
write  the  record  and  the  remembrance  of  it,  here  and 
now,  with  this  pencil  on  this  paper.  And  this  is 
because  you  are  of  my  race  and  service,  and  because 
you  have  honored  me  this  day  with  your  mats  to  sit 
upon  and  your  thrice-blessed  and  thrice-delicious  lei 
hala." 

He  turned  to  me  a  weary  and  skeptical  eye,  saying: 

"  And  if  I  die  to-morrow,  not  alone  will  the  law 
yers  contest  my  disposition  of  my  property,  but  they 
will  contest  my  benefactions  and  my  pensions 
accorded  and  the  clarity  of  my  mind. 

u  It  was  the  right  weather  of  the  year;  but  even 
then,  with  our  old  weak  ones  at  the  paddles,  we  did 
not  attempt  the  landing  until  we  had  assembled  half 
the  population  of  Ponuloo  Valley  down  on  the  steep 
little  beach.  Then  we  counted  our  waves,  selected 
the  best  one,  and  ran  in  on  it.  Of  course,  the  canoe 
was  swamped  and  the  outrigger  smashed,  but  the 


SHIN  BONES  129 

ones  on  shore  dragged  us  up  unharmed  beyond  the 
wash. 

"  Ahuna  gave  his  orders.  In  the  nighttime  all 
must  remain  within  their  houses,  and  the  dogs 
be  tied  up  and  have  their  jaws  bound  so  that  there 
should  be  no  barking.  And  in  the  nighttime  Ahuna 
and  I  stole  out  on  our  journey,  no  one  knowing 
whether  we  went  to  the  right  or  left  or  up  the  valley 
toward  its  head.  We  carried  jerky,  and  hard  poi 
and  dried  aku,  and  from  the  quantity  of  the  food  I 
knew  we  were  to  be  gone  several  days.  Such  a  trail ! 
A  Jacob's  ladder  to  the  sky,  truly,  for  that  first  pali, 
almost  straight  up,  was  three  thousand  feet-  above 
the  sea.  And  we  did  it  in  the  dark ! 

"  At  the  top,  beyond  the  sight  of  the  valley  we  had 
left,  we  slept  until  daylight  on  the  hard  rock  in  a 
hollow  nook  Ahuna  knew  and  that  was  so  small  that 
we  were  squeezed.  And  the  old  fellow,  for  fear 
that  I  might  move  in  the  heavy  restlessness  of  lad's 
sleep,  lay  on  the  outside  with  one  arm  resting  across 
me.  At  daybreak,  I  saw  why.  Between  us  and  the 
lip  of  the  cliff  scarcely  a  yard  intervened.  I  crawled 
to  the  lip  and  looked,  watching  the  abyss  take  on 
immensity  in  the  growing  light  and  trembling  from 
the  fear  of  height  that  was  upon  me.  At  last  I  made 
out  the  sea,  over  half  a  mile  straight  beneath.  And 
we  had  done  this  thing  in  the  dark! 

"  Down  in  the  next  valley,  which  was  a  very  tiny 
one,  we  found  evidences  of  the  ancient  population, 


130          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

but  there  were  no  people.  The  only  way  was  the 
crazy  footpaths  up  and  down  the  dizzy  valley  walls 
from  valley  to  valley.  But  lean  and  aged  as  Ahuna 
was,  he  seemed  untirable.  In  the  second  valley 
dwelt  an  old  leper  in  hiding.  He  did  not  know  me, 
and  when  Ahuna  told  him  who  I  was,  he  groveled 
at  my  feet,  almost  clasping  them,  and  mumbled  a 
mele  of  all  my  line  out  of  a  iipless  mouth. 

'  The  next  valley  proved  to  be  the  valley.  It  was 
long  and  so  narrow  that  its  floor  had  caught  not  suf 
ficient  space  of  soil  to  grow  taro  for  a  single  person. 
Also,  it  had  no  beach,  the  stream  that  threaded  it 
leaping  a  pali  of  several  hundred  feet  down  to  the 
sea.  It  was  a  God-forsaken  place  of  naked,  eroded 
lava,  to  which  only  rarely  could  the  scant  vegetation 
find  roothold.  For  miles  we  followed  up  that  wind 
ing  fissure  through  the  towering  walls,  far  into  the 
chaos  of  back  country  that  lies  behind  the  Iron-bound 
Coast.  How  far  that  valley  penetrated,  I  do  not 
know,  but,  from  the  quantity  of  water  in  the  stream, 
I  judged  it  far.  We  did  not  go  to  the  valley's  head. 
I  could  see  Ahuna  casting  glances  to  all  the  peaks, 
and  I  knew  he  was  taking  bearings,  known  to  him 
alone,  from  natural  objects.  When  he  halted  at  the 
last,  it  was  with  abrupt  certainty.  His  bearings  had 
crossed.  He  threw  down  the  portion  of  food  and 
outfit  he  had  carried.  It  was  the  place.  I  looked 
on  either  hand  at  the  hard,  implacable  walls,  naked 


SHIN  BONES  131 

of  vegetation,  and  could  dream  of  no  burial  place 
possible  in  such  bare  adamant. 

"  We  ate,  then  stripped  for  work.  Only  did 
Ahuna  permit  me  to  retain  my  shoes.  He  stood 
beside  me  at  the  edge  of  a  deep  pool,  likewise  appar 
eled  and  prodigiously  skinny. 

"  '  You  will  dive  down  into  the  pool  at  this  spot/ 
he  said.  '  Search  the  ruck  with  your  hands  as  you 
descend,  and,  about  a  fathom  and  a  half  down,  you 
will  find  a  hole.  Enter  it,  headfirst  but  going  slowly, 
for  the  lava  rock  is  sharp  and  may  cut  your  head 
and  body.' 

"  '  And  then?  '  I  queried.  '  You  will  find  the  hole 
growing  larger,'  was  his  answer.  '  When  you  have 
gone  all  of  eight  fathoms  along  the  passage,  come  up 
slowly,  and  you  will  find  your  head  in  the  air,  above 
water,  in  the  dark.  Wait  there  then  for  me.  The 
water  is  very  cold.' 

"  It  didn't  sound  good  to  me.  I  was  thinking,  not 
of  the  cold  water  and  the  dark,  but  of  the  bones. 
'  You  go  first,'  I  said.  But  he  claimed  he  could  not. 
*  You  are  my  alii,  my  prince,'  he  said.  '  It  is  impos 
sible  that  I  should  go  before  you  into  the  sacred 
burial  place  of  your  kingly  ancestors.' 

"  But  the  prospect  did  not  please.  '  Just  cut  out 
this  prince  stuff,'  I  told  him.  '  It  isn't  what  it's 
cracked  up  to  be.  You  go  first,  and  I'll  never  tell  on 
you.'  '  Not  alone  the  living  must  we  please,'  he 


132          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

admonished,  '  but,  more  so,  the  dead  must  we  please. 
Nor  can  we  lie  to  the  dead.' 

'  We  argued  it  out,  and  for  half  an  hour  it  was 
stalemate.  I  wouldn't,  and  he  simply  couldn't.  He 
tried  to  buck  me  up  by  appealing  to  my  pride.  He 
chanted  the  heroic  deeds  of  my  ancestors;  and,  I 
remember  especially,  he  sang  to  me  of  Mokornoku, 
my  great-grandfather  and  the  gigantic  father  of  the 
gigantic  Kaaukuu,  telling  how  thrice  in  battle  Moko- 
moku  leaped  among  his  foes,  seizing  by  the  neck  a 
warrior  in  either  hand  and  knocking  their  heads 
together  until  they  were  dead.  But  this  was  not  what 
decided  me.  I  really  felt  sorry  for  old  Ahuna,  he 
was  so  beside  himself  for  fear  the  expedition  would 
come  to  naught.  And  I  was  coming  to  a  great  admi 
ration  for  the  old  fellow,  not  least  among  the  reasons 
being  the  fact  of  his  lying  down  to  sleep  between  me 
and  the  cliff  lip. 

"  So,  with  true  alii  authority  of  command,  saying, 
*  You  will  immediately  follow  after  me,'  I  dived  in. 
Everything  he  had  said  was  correct.  I  found  the 
entrance  to  the  subterranean  passage,  swam  carefully 
through  it,  cutting  my  shoulder  once  on  the  lava-sharp 
roof,  and  emerged  in  the  darkness  and  air.  But 
before  I  could  count  thirty,  he  broke  water  beside 
me,  rested  his  hand  on  my  arm  to  make  sure  of  me, 
and  directed  me  to  swim  ahead  of  him  for  the  matter 
of  a  hundred  feet  or  so.  Then  we  touched  bottom 
and  climbed  out  on  the  rocks.  And  still  no  light, 


SHIN  BONES  133 

and  I  remember  I  was  glad  that  our  altitude  was  too 
high  for  centipedes. 

u  He  had  brought  with  him  a  cocoanut  calabash, 
tightly  stoppered,  of  whale  oil  that  must  have  been 
landed  on  Lahaina  beach  thirty  years  before.  From 
his  mouth  he  took  a  water-tight  arrangement  of  a 
match  box  composed  of  two  empty  rifle  cartridges 
fitted  snugly  together.  He  lighted  the  wicking  that 
floated  on  the  oil,  and  I  looked  about  and  knew  dis 
appointment.  No  burial  chamber  was  it,  but  merely 
a  lava  tube  such  as  occurs  on  all  the  islands. 

"  He  put  the  calabash  of  light  into  my  hands  and 
started  me  ahead  of  him  on  the  way,  which  he 
assured  me  was  long  but  not  too  long.  It  was  long, 
at  least  a  mile,  in  my  sober  judgment,  though  at  the 
time  it  seemed  five  miles;  and  it  ascended  sharply. 
When  Ahuna,  at  the  last,  stopped  me,  I  knew  we 
were  close  to  our  goal.  He  knelt  on  his  lean  old 
knees  on  the  sharp  lava  rock,  and  clasped  my  knees 
with  his  skinny  arms.  My  hand  that  was  free  of 
the  calabash  lamp  he  placed  on  his  head.  He 
chanted  to  me,  with  his  old  cracked,  quavering  voice, 
the  line  of  my  descent  and  my  essential  high  aliiness. 
And  then  he  said: 

'  Tell  neither  Kanau  nor  Hiwilani  aught  of  what 
you  are  about  to  behold.  There  is  no  sacredness  in 
Kanau.  His  mind  is  filled  with  sugar  and  the  breed 
ing  of  horses.  I  do  know  that  he  sold  a  feather 
cloak  his  grandfather  had  worn  to  that  English  col- 


134          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

lector  for  eight  thousand  dollars,  and  the  money  he 
lost  the  next  day  betting  on  the  polo  game  between 
Maui  and  Oahu.  Hiwilani,  your  mother,  is  filled 
with  sacredness.  She  is  too  much  filled  with  sacred- 
ness.  She  grows  old  and  weak-headed,  and  she 
traffics  overmuch  with  sorceries.' 

"  '  No,'  I  made  answer.  *  I  shall  tell  no  one.  If 
I  did,  then  would  I  have  to  return  to  this  place  again. 
And  I  do  not  want  ever  to  return  to  this  place.  I'll 
try  anything  once.  This  I  shall  never  try  twice.' 

u  '  It  is  well,'  he  said,  and  arose,  falling  behind  so 
that  I  should  enter  first.  Also,  he  said:  'Your 
mother  is  old.  I  shall  bring  her,  as  promised,  the 
bones  of  her  mother  and  of  her  grandfather.  These 
should  content  her  until  she  dies;  and  then,  if  I  die 
before  her,  it  is  you  who  must  see  to  it  that  all  the 
bones  in  her  family  collection  are  placed  in  the  Royal 
Mausoleum.' 

"  I  have  given  all  the  Islands'  museums  the  once 
over,"  Prince  Akuli  lapsed  back  into  slang,  "  and  I 
must  say  that  the  totality  of  the  collections  cannot 
touch  what  I  saw  in  our  Lakanaii  burial  cave.  Re 
member,  and  with  reason  and  history,  we  trace  back 
the  highest  and  oldest  genealogy  in  the  Islands. 
Everything  that  I  had  ever  dreamed  or  heard  of,  and 
much  more  that  I  had  not,  was  there.  The  place 
was  wonderful.  Ahuna,  sepulchrally  muttering 
prayers  and  meles,  moved  about,  lighting  various 
whale-oil  lamp  calabashes.  They  were  all  there,  the 


SHIN  BONES  135 

Hawaiian  race  from  the  beginning  of  Hawaiian 
time.  Bundles  of  bones  and  bundles  of  bones,  all 
wrapped  decently  in  tapa,  until  for  all  the  world  it 
was  like  the  parcels-post  department  at  a  post  office. 

"  And  everything!  Kahilis,  which  you  may  know 
developed  out  of  the  fly  flapper  into  symbols  of  roy 
alty  until  they  became  larger  than  hearse  plumes  with 
handles  a  fathom  and  a  half  and  over  two  fathoms 
in  length.  And  such  handles !  Of  the  wood  of  the 
kauila,  inlaid  with  shell  and  ivory  and  bone  with  a 
cleverness  that  had  died  out  among  our  artificers  a 
century  before.  It  was  a  centuries'  old  family  attic. 
For  the  first  time  I  saw  things  I  had  only  heard  of, 
such  as  the  pahoas,  fashioned  of  whale  teeth  and  sus 
pended  by  braided  human  hair,  and  worn  on  the 
breast  only  by  the  highest  of  rank. 

"  There  were  tapas  and  mats  of  the  rarest  and 
oldest;  capes  and  leis  and  helmets  and  cloaks,  price 
less  all,  except  the  too  ancient  ones,  of  the  feathers 
of  the  mamo,  and  of  the  iwi  and  the  akakano  and  the 
o-o.  I  saw  one  of  the  mamo  cloaks  that  was  super 
ior  to  that  finest  one  in  the  Bishop  Museum  in  Hono 
lulu  and  that  they  value  at  between  half  a  million  and 
a  million  dollars.  Goodness  me,  I  thought  at  the 
time,  it  was  lucky  Kanau  didn't  know  about  it. 

"  Such  a  mess  of  things !  Carved  gourds  and  cala 
bashes,  shell  scrapers,  nets  of  olona  fiber,  a  junk  of 
ie-ie  baskets,  and  fishhooks  of  every  bone  and  spoon 
of  shell.  Musical  instruments  of  the  forgotten 


136          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

days  —  ukukes  and  nose  flutes,  and  kiokios  which  are 
likewise  played  with  one  unstoppered  nostril.  Taboo 
poi  bowls  and  finger  bowls,  left-handed  adzes  of  the 
canoe  gods,  lava-cup  lamps,  stone  mortars  and  pes 
tles,  and  poi  pounders.  And  adzes  again,  a  myriad 
of  them,  beautiful  ones,  from  an  ounce  in  weight  for 
the  finer  carvings  of  idols  to  fifteen  pounds  for  the 
felling  of  trees,  and  all  with  the  sweetest  handles  I 
have  ever  beheld. 

"  There  were  the  kaekeekes  —  you  know,  our 
ancient  drums,  hollowed  sections  of  the  cocoanut  tree, 
covered  one  end  with  sharkskin.  The  first  kaekeeke 
of  all  Hawaii  Ahuna  pointed  out  to  me  and  told  me 
the  tale.  It  was  manifestly  most  ancient.  He  was 
afraid  to  touch  it  for  fear  the  age-rotted  wood  of  it 
would  crumble  to  dust,  the  ragged  tatters  of  the 
sharkskin  head  of  it  still  attached.  '  This  is  the  very 
oldest  and  father  of  all  our  kaekeekes,'  Ahuna  told 
me.  '  Kila,  the  son  of  Moikeha,  brought  it  back 
from  far  Raiatea  in  the  South  Pacific.  And  it  was 
Kila's  own  son,  Kahai,  who  made  that  same  journey, 
and  was  gone  ten  years,  and  brought  back  with  him 
from  Tahiti  the  first  breadfruit  trees  that  sprouted 
and  grew  on  Hawaiian  soil.' 

"  And  the  bones  and  bones!  The  parcel-delivery 
array  of  them!  Besides  the  small  bundles  of  the 
long  bones,  there  were  full  skeletons,  tapa-wrapped, 
lying  in  one-man,  and  two-  and  three-man  canoes  of 
precious  koa  wood,  with  curved  outriggers  of  wilt- 


SHIN  BONES  137 

will  wood,  and  proper  paddles  to  hand  with  the  to 
projection  at  the  point  simulating  the  continuance 
of  the  handle,  as  if,  like  a  skewer,  thrust  through  the 
flat  length  of  the  blade.  And  their  war  weapons 
were  laid  away  by  the  sides  of  the  lifeless  bones  that 
had  wielded  them  —  rusty  old  horse  pistols,  derrin 
gers,  pepper  boxes,  five-barreled  fantastiques,  Ken 
tucky  long  rifles,  muskets  handled  in  trade  by  John 
Company  and  Hudson's  Bay,  shark-tooth  swords, 
wooden  stabbing  knives,  arrows  and  spears  bone- 
headed  of  the  fish  and  the  pig  and  of  man,  and  spears 
and  arrows  wooden-headed  and  fire-hardened. 

"  Ahuna  put  a  spear  in  my  hand,  headed  and 
pointed  finely  with  the  long  shin  bone  of  a  man,  and 
told  me  the  tale  of  it.  But  first  he  unwrapped  the 
long  bones,  arms,  and  legs  of  two  parcels,  the  bones, 
under  the  wrappings,  neatly  tied  like  so  many 
fagots.  '  This,'  said  Ahuna,  exhibiting  the  pitiful 
white  contents  of  one  parcel,  '  is  Laulani.  She  was 
the  wife  of  Akaiko,  whose  bones  now  placed  in  your 
hands,  much  larger  and  malelike  as  you  observe,  held 
up  the  flesh  of  a  large  man,  a  three-hundred  pounder, 
seven-footer,  three  centuries  agone.  And  this  spear 
head  is  made  of  the  shin  bone  of  Keola,  a  mighty 
wrestler  and  runner  of  their  own  time  and  place. 
And  he  loved  Laulani,  and  she  fled  with  him.  But 
in  a  forgotten  battle  on  the  sands  of  Kalini,  Akaiko 
rushed  the  lines  of  the  enemy,  leading  the  charge  that 
was  successful,  and  seized  upon  Keola,  his  wife's 


138          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

lover,  and  threw  him  to  the  ground,  and  sawed 
through  his  neck  to  the  death  with  a  shark-tooth 
knife.  Thus,  in  the  old  days  as  always,  did  man 
combat  with  man  for  woman.  And  Laulani  was 
beautiful,  that  Keola  should  be  made  into  a  spear 
head  for  her !  She  was  formed  like  a  queen,  and  her 
body  was  a  long  bowl  of  sweetness,  and  her  fingers 
lomi'd  to  slimness  and  smallness  at  her  mother's 
breast.  For  ten  generations  have  we  remembered 
her  beauty.  Your  father's  singing  boys  to-day  sing 
of  her  beauty  in  the  hula  that  is  named  of  her.  This 
is  Laulani,  whom  you  hold  in  your  hands.' 

"  And,  Ahuna  done,  I  could  but  gaze,  with  imagi 
nation  at  the  one  time  sobered  and  fired.  Old 
drunken  Howard  had  lent  me  his  Tennyson,  and  I 
had  mooned  long  and  often  over  the  '  Idyls  of  the 
King.'  Here  were  the  three,  I  thought  —  Arthur 
and  Launcelot  and  Guinevere.  This,  then,  I  pon 
dered,  was  the  end  of  it  all,  of  life  and  strife  and 
striving  and  love,  the  weary  spirits  of  these  long-gone 
ones  to  be  invoked  by  fat  old  women  and  mangy  sor 
cerers,  the  bones  of  them  to  be  esteemed  of  collect 
ors  and  betted  on  horse  races  and  ace-fulls  or  to  be 
sold  for  cash  and  invested  in  sugar  stocks. 

"  For  me  it  was  illumination.  I  learned  there  in 
the  burial  cave  the  great  lesson.  And  to  Ahuna,  I 
said:  'The  spear  headed  with  the  long  bone  of 
Keola  I  shall  take  for  my  own.  Never  shall  I  sell  it. 
I  shall  keep  it  always/ 


SHIN  BONES  139 

"  '  And  for  what  purpose?  '  he  demanded.  And 
I  replied:  '  That  the  contemplation  of  it  may  keep 
my  head  sober  and  my  feet  on  earth  with  the  knowl 
edge  that  few  men  are  fortunate  enough  to  have  as 
much  of  a  remnant  of  themselves  as  will  compose  a 
spearhead  when  they  are  three  centuries  dead.' 

"  And  Ahuna  bowed  his  head,  and  praised  my 
wisdom  of  judgment.  But  at  that  moment  the  long- 
rotted  olona  cord  broke  and  the  pitiful  woman's 
bones  of  Laulani  shed  from  my  clasp  and  clattered 
on  the  rocky  floor.  One  shin  bone,  in  some  way  de 
flected,  fell  under  the  dark  shadow  of  a  canoe  bow, 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  it  should  be  mine.  So 
I  hastened  to  help  him  in  the  picking  up  of  the 
bones  and  the  tying,  so  that  he  did  not  notice  its 
absence. 

"  '  This,'  said  Ahuna,  introducing  me  to  another 
of  my  ancestors,  '  is  your  great-grandfather,  Moko- 
moku,  the  father  of  Kaaukuu.  Behold  the  size  of 
his  bones.  He  was  a  giant.  I  shall  carry  him, 
because  of  the  long  spear  of  Keola  that  will  be  diffi 
cult  for  you  to  carry  away.  And  this  is  Lelemahoa, 
your  grandmother,  the  mother  of  your  mother  that 
you  shall  carry.  And  day  grows  short,  and  we  must 
still  swim  up  through  the  waters  to  the  sun  ere 
darkness  hides  the  sun  from  the  world.' 

"  But  Ahuna,  putting  out  the  various  calabashes  of 
light  by  drowning  the  wicks  in  the  whale  oil,  did 


1 40          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

not  observe  me  include  the  shin  bone  of  Laulani 
with  the  bones  of  my  grandmother.'' 

The  honk  of  the  automobile,  sent  up  from  Olo- 
kona  to  rescue  us,  broke  off  the  prince's  narrative. 
We  said  good-by  to  the  ancient  and  fresh-pensioned 
wahine,  and  departed.  A  half  mile  on  our  way, 
Prince  Akuli  resumed: 

"  So  Ahuna  and  I  returned  to  Hiwilani,  and  to 
her  happiness,  lasting  to  her  death  the  year  follow 
ing,  two  more  of  her  ancestors  abided  about  her  in 
the  jars  of  her  twilight  room.  Also,  she  kept  her 
compact  and  worried  my  father  into  sending  me  to 
England.  I  took  old  Howard  along,  and  he  perked 
up  and  confuted  the  doctors  so  that  it  was  three 
years  before  I  buried  him  restored  to  the  bosom  of 
his  family.  Sometimes  I  think  he  was  the  most  bril 
liant  man  I  have  ever  known.  Not  until  my  re 
turn  from  England  did  Ahuna  die,  the  last  custodian 
of  our  alii  secrets.  And  at  his  deathbed  he  pledged 
me  again  never  to  reveal  the  location  in  that  name 
less  valley  and  never  to  go  back  myself. 

"  Much  else  I  have  forgotten  to  mention  did  I 
see  there  in  the  cave  that  one  time.  There  were  the 
bones  of  Kumi,  the  near  demigod,  son  of  Tui  Manua 
of  Samoa,  who  in  the  long  before  married  into  my 
line  and  heaven-boosted  my  genealogy.  And  the 
bones  of  my  great-grandmother  who  had  slept  in 
the  four-poster  presented  her  by  Lord  Byron.  And 
Ahuna  hinted  tradition  that  there  was  reason  for 


SHIN  BONES  141 

that  presentation,  as  well  as  for  the  historically 
known  lingering  of  the  Blonde  in  Olokona  for  so 
long.  And  I  held  her  poor  bones  in  my  hands  — 
bones  once  fleshed  with  sensate  beauty,  informed 
with  sparkle  and  spirit,  instinct  with  love  and  love 
warmness  of  arms  around  and  eyes  and  lips  to 
gether,  that  had  begat  me  in  the  end  of  the  genera 
tions  unborn.  It  was  a  good  experience.  I  am 
modern,  'tis  true.  I  believe  in  no  mystery  stuff 
of  old  time  nor  the  kahunas.  And  yet  I  saw  in  that 
cave  things  which  I  dare  not  name  to  you,  and  which 
I,  since  old  Ahuna  died,  alone  of  the  living  know. 
I  have  no  children.  With  me  my  long  line  ceases. 
This  is  the  twentieth  century,  and  we  stink  of  gas 
oline.  Nevertheless  these  other  and  nameless  things 
shall  die  with  me.  I  shall  never  revisit  the  burial 
place.  Nor  in  all  time  to  come  will  any  man  gaze 
upon  it  through  living  eyes  unless  the  quakes  of 
earth  rend  the  mountains  asunder  and  spew  forth 
the  secrets  contained  in  the  hearts  of  the  moun 
tains." 

Prince  Akuli  ceased  from  speech.  With  welcome 
relief  of  his  face,  he  removed  the  lei  hala  from  his 
neck,  and,  with  a  sniff  and  a  sigh,  tossed  it  into  con 
cealment  in  the  thick  lantana  by  the  side  of  the  road. 

"  But  the  shin  bone  of  Laulani?  "  I  queried  softly. 

He  remained  silent  while  a  mile  of  pasture  land 
fled  by  us  and  yielded  to  cane  land. 

"  I  have  it  now,"  he  at  last  said,     "  And  beside  it 


H2  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

is  Keola,  slain  ere  his  time  and  made  into  a  spearhead 
for  love  of  the  woman  whose  shin  bone  abides  near 
to  him.  To  them,  those  poor  pathetic  bones,  I  owe 
more  than  to  aught  else.  I  became  possessed  of 
them  in  the  period  of  my  culminating  adolescence.  I 
know  they  changed  the  entire  course  of  my  life  and 
trend  of  my  mind.  They  gave  to  me  a  modesty  and 
a  humility  in  the  world  from  which  my  father's  for 
tune  has  ever  failed  to  seduce  me. 

"  And  often,  when  woman  was  nigh  to  winning  to 
the  empery  of  my  mind  over  me,  I  sought  Laulani's 
shin  bone.  And  often,  when  lusty  manhood  stung 
me  into  feeling  overproud  and  lusty,  I  consulted  the 
spearhead  remnant  of  Keaho,  one  time  swift  runner, 
and  mighty  wrestler  and  lover,  and  thief  of  the  wife 
of  a  king.  The  contemplation  of  them  has  ever 
been  of  profound  aid  to  me,  and  you  might  well  say 
that  I  have  founded  my  religion  or  practice  of  living 
upon  them." 

Waikiki,  Honolulu, 
Hawaiian  Islands, 
July  1 6,  1916. 


THE  WATER  BABY 

I  LENT  a  weary  ear  to  old  Kohokumu's  inter 
minable  chanting  of  the  deeds  and  adventures 
of  Maui,  the  Promethean  demigod  of  Polynesia  who 
fished  up  dry  land  from  ocean  depths  with  hooks 
made  fast  to  heaven,  who  lifted  up  the  sky  where- 
under  previously  men  had  gone  on  all  fours,  not  hav 
ing  space  to  stand  erect,  and  who  made  the  sun  with 
its  sixteen  snared  legs  stand  still  and  agree  thereafter 
to  traverse  the  sky  more  slowly  —  the  sun  being  evi 
dently  a  trade-unionist  and  believing  in  the  six-hour 
day,  while  Maui  stood  for  the  open  shop  and  the 
twelve-hour  day. 

"  Now  this,"  said  Kohokumu,  "  is  from  Queen 
Liliuokalani's  own  family  mele  : 

'  Maui  became  restless  and  fought  the  sun 

With  a  noose  that  he  laid. 

And  winter  won  the  sun, 

And  summer  was  won  by  Maui.  .  .  .'  " 

Born  in  the  Islands  myself,  I  know  the  Hawaiian 
myths  better  than  this  old  fisherman,  although  I  pos 
sessed  not  his  memorization  that  enabled  him  to 
recite  them  endless  hours. 

143 


144          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  And  you  believe  all  this?  "  I  demanded  in  the 
sweet  Hawaiian  tongue. 

"  It  was  a  long  time  ago,"  he  pondered.  "  I  never 
saw  Maui  with  my  own  eyes.  But  all  our  old  men 
from  all  the  way  back  tell  us  these  things,  as  I,  an  old 
man,  tell  them  to  my  sons  and  grandsons,  who  will 
tell  them  to  their  sons  and  grandsons  all  the  way 
ahead  to  come." 

"  You  believe,"  I  persisted,  "  that  whopper  of 
Maui  roping  the  sun  like  a  wild  steer,  and  that  other 
whopper  of  heaving  up  the  sky  from  off  the  earth?  " 

"  I  am  of  little  worth,  and  am  not  wise,  O  La- 
kana,"  my  fisherman  made  answer.  '  Yet  have  I 
read  the  Hawaiian  bible  the  missionaries  translated 
to  us,  and  there  have  I  read  that  your  Big  Man  of 
the  Beginning  made  the  earth  and  sky  and  sun  and 
moon  and  stars,  and  all  manner  of  animals  from 
horses  to  cockroaches  and  from  centipedes  and  mos 
quitoes  to  sea  lice  and  jellyfish,  and  man  and  woman 
and  everything,  and  all  in  six  days.  Why,  Maui 
didn't  do  anything  like  that  much.  He  didn't  make 
anything.  He  just  put  things  in  order,  that  was  all, 
and  it  took  him  a  long,  long  time  to  make  the  im 
provements.  And  anyway,  it  is  much  easier  and 
more  reasonable  to  believe  the  little  whopper  than 
the  big  whopper." 

And  what  could  I  reply?  He  had  me  on  the  mat 
ter  of  reasonableness.  Besides,  my  head  ached. 
And  the  funny  thing,  as  I  admitted  to  myself,  was 


THE  WATER  BABY  145 

that  evolution  teaches  in  no  uncertain  voice  that  man 
did  run  on  all  fours  ere  he  came  to  walk  upright,  that 
astronomy  states  flatly  that  the  speed  of  the  revolu 
tion  of  the  earth  on  its  axis  has  diminished  steadily, 
thus  increasing  the  length  of  day,  and  that  the  seis 
mologists  accept  that  all  the  islands  of  Hawaii  were 
elevated  from  the  ocean  floor  by  volcanic  action. 

Fortunately,  I  saw  a  bamboo  pole,  floating  on  the 
surface  several  hundred  feet  away,  suddenly  up-end 
and  start  a  very  devil's  dance.  This  was  a  diversion 
from  the  profitless  discussion,  and  Kohokumu  and  I 
dipped  our  paddles  and  raced  the  little  outrigger 
canoe  to  the  dancing  pole.  Kohokumu  caught  the 
line  that  was  fast  to  the  butt  of  the  pole  and  under 
handed  it  in  until  a  two-foot  ukikiki,  battling  fiercely 
to  the  end,  flashed  its  wet  silver  in  the  sun  and  began 
beating  a  tattoo  on  the  inside  bottom  of  the  canoe. 
Kohokumu  picked  up  a  squirming,  slimy  squid,  with 
his  teeth  bit  a  chunk  of  live  bait  out  of  it,  attached 
the  bait  to  the  hook,  and  dropped  line  and  sinker 
overside.  The  stick  floated  flat  on  the  surface  of  the 
water,  and  the  canoe  drifted  slowly  away.  With  a 
survey  of  the  crescent  composed  of  a  score  of  such 
sticks  all  lying  flat,  Kohokumu  wiped  his  hands  on 
his  naked  sides  and  lifted  the  wearisome  and  centur 
ies-old  chant  of  Kuali: 

"  '  Oh,  the  great  fishhook  of  Maui ! 
Manai-i-ka-lani  — "  made  fast  to  the  heavens  " ! 


146          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

An  earth-twisted  cord  ties  the  hook, 

Engulfed  from  lofty  Kauiki ! 

Its  bait  the  red-billed  Alae, 

The  bird  to  Hina  sacred ! 

It  sinks  far  down  to  Hawaii, 

Struggling  and  in  pain  dying! 

Caught  is  the  land  beneath  the  water, 

Floated  up,  up  to  the  surface, 

But  Hina  hid  a  wing  of  the  bird 

And  broke  the  land  beneath  the  water! 

Below  was  the  bait  snatched  away 

And  eaten  at  once  by  the  fishes, 

The  Ulua  of  the  deep  muddy  places !  ' 

His  aged  voice  was  hoarse  and  scratchy  from  the 
drinking  of  too  much  swipes  at  a  funeral  the  night 
before,  nothing  of  which  contributed  to  make  me  less 
irritable.  My  head  ached.  The  sun  glare  on  the 
water  made  my  eyes  ache,  while  I  was  suffering  more 
than  half  a  touch  of  mal  de  mer  from  the  antic  con 
duct  of  the  outrigger  on  the  blobby  sea.  The  air  was 
stagnant.  In  the  lee  of  Waihee,  between  the  white 
beach  and  the  reef,  no  whisper  of  breeze  eased  the 
still  sultriness.  I  really  think  I  was  too  miserable  to 
summon  the  resolution  to  give  up  the  fishing  and  go 
in  to  shore. 

Lying  back  with  closed  eyes,  I  lost  count  of  time. 
I  even  forgot  that  Kohokumu  was  chanting  till 
reminded  of  it  by  his  ceasing.  An  exclamation  made 
me  bare  my  eyes  to  the  stab  of  the  sun.  He  was 
gazing  down  through  the  water  glass. 


THE  WATER  BABY  147 

"  It's  a  big  one,"  he  said,  passing  me  the  device 
and  slipping  overside  feetfirst  into  the  water. 

He  went  under  without  splash  and  ripple,  turned 
over,  and  swam  down.  I  followed  his  progress 
through  the  water  glass,  which  is  merely  an  oblong 
box  a  couple  of  feet  long,  open  at  the  top,  the  bottom 
sealed  water-tight  with  a  sheet  of  ordinary  glass. 

Now  Kohokumu  was  a  bore,  and  I  was  squeamishly 
out  of  sorts  with  him  for  his  volubleness,  but  I  could 
not  help  admiring  him  as  I  watched  him  go  down. 
Past  seventy  years  of  age,  lean  as  a  spear,  and 
shriveled  like  a  mummy,  he  was  doing  what  few 
young  athletes  of  my  race  would  do  or  could  do.  It 
was  forty  feet  to  bottom.  There,  partly  exposed 
but  mostly  hidden  under  the  bulge  of  a  coral  lump,  I 
could  discern  his  objective.  His  keen  eyes  had 
caught  the  projecting  tentacle  of  a  squid.  Even  as 
he  swam,  the  tentacle  was  lazily  withdrawn,  so  that 
there  was  no  sign  of  the  creature.  But  the  brief 
exposure  of  the  portion  of  one  tentacle  had  adver 
tised  its  owner  as  a  squid  of  size. 

The  pressure  at  a  depth  of  forty  feet  is  no  joke  for 
a  young  man,  yet  it  did  not  seem  to  inconvenience 
this  oldster.  I  am  certain  it  never  crossed  his  mind 
to  be  inconvenienced.  Unarmed,  bare  of  body  save 
for  a  brief  malo  or  loin  cloth,  he  was  undeterred  by 
the  formidable  creature  that  constituted  his  prey.  I 
saw  him  steady  himself  with  his  right  hand  on  the 
coral  lump,  and  thrust  his  left  arm  into  the  hole  to 


148  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

the  shoulder.  Half  a  minute  elapsed,  during  which 
time  he  seemed  to  be  groping  and  rooting  around 
with  his  left  hand.  Then  tentacle  after  tentacle, 
myriad-suckered  and  wildly  waving,  emerged.  Lay 
ing  hold  of  his  arm,  they  writhed  and  coiled  about 
his  flesh  like  so  many  snakes.  With  a  heave  and  a 
jerk  appeared  the  entire  squid,  a  proper  devilfish  or 
octopus. 

But  the  old  man  was  in  no  hurry  for  his  natural 
element,  the  air  above  the  water.  There,  forty  feet 
beneath,  wrapped  about  by  an  octopus  that  measured 
nine  feet  across  from  tentacle  tip  to  tentacle  tip  and 
that  could  well  drown  the  stoutest  swimmer,  he 
cooly  and  casually  did  the  one  thing  that  gave  to  him 
his  empery  over  the  monster.  He  shoved  his  lean, 
hawklike  face  into  the  very  center  of  the  slimy, 
squirming  mass,  and  with  his  several  ancient  fangs 
bit  into  the  heart  and  the  life  of  the  matter.  This 
accomplished,  he  came  upward  slowly,  as  a  swimmer 
should  who  is  changing  atmospheres  from  the 
depths.  Alongside  the  canoe,  still  in  the  water  and 
peeling  off  the  grisly  clinging  thing,  the  incorrigible 
old  sinner  burst  into  the  pule  of  triumph  which  had 
been  chanted  by  countless  squid-catching  generations 
before  him: 

:  '  O  Kanaloa  of  the  taboo  nights ! 
Stand  upright  on  the  solid  floor! 
Stand  upon  the  floor  where  lies  the  squid! 
Stand  up  to  take  the  squid  of  the  deep  sea! 


THE  WATER  BABY  149 

Rise  up,  O  Kanaloa! 
Stir  up!     Stir  up!     Let  the  squid  awake! 
Let  the  squid  that  lies  flat  awake!     Let  the  squid  that  lies 
spread  out.  .  .  .'  " 

I  closed  my  eyes  and  ears,  not-offering  to  lend  him 
a  hand,  secure  in  the  knowledge  that  he  could  climb 
back  unaided  into  the  unstable  craft  without  the 
slightest  risk  of  upsetting  it. 

"  A  very  fine  squid,"  he  crooned.  "  It  is  a  wahine 
squid.  I  shall  now  sing  to  you  the  song  of  the  cowrie 
shell,  the  red  cowrie  shell  that  we  used  as  a  bait  for 
the  squid  — ' 

"  You  were  disgraceful  last  night  at  the  funeral," 
I  headed  him  off.  u  I  heard  all  about  it.  You  made 
much  noise.  You  sang  till  everybody  was  deaf. 
You  insulted  the  son  -of  the  widow.  You  drank 
swipes  like  a  pig.  Swipes  are  not  good  for  your 
extreme  age.  Some  day  you  will  wake  up  dead. 
You  ought  to  be  a  wreck  to-day  — " 

"  Ha !  "  he  chuckled.  "  And  you,  who  drank  no 
swipes,  who  was  a  babe  unborn  when  I  was  already 
an  old  man,  who  went  to  bed  last  night  with  the  sun 
and  the  chickens  —  this  day  you  are  a  wreck.  Ex 
plain  me  that.  My  ears  are  as  thirsty  to  listen  as 
was  my  throat  thirsty  last  night.  And  -here  to-day, 
behold,  I  am,  as  that  Englishman  who  came  here  in 
his  yacht  used  to  say,  I  am  in  fine  form,  in  devilish 
fine  form." 

"  I  give  you  up,"  I  retorted,  shrugging  my  shoul- 


150          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

ders.  "  Only  one  thing  is  clear,  and  that  is  that  the 
devil  doesn't  want  you.  Report  of  your  singing  has 
gone  before  you." 

"  No,"  he  pondered  the  idea  carefully.  "  It  is 
not  that.  The  devil  will  be  glad  for  my  coming,  for 
I  have  some  very  fine  songs  for  him,  and  scandals 
and  old  gossips  of  the  high  aliis  that  will  make 
him  scratch  his  sides.  So  let  me  explain  to  you 
the  secret  of  my  birth.  The  Sea  is  my  mother.  I 
was  born  in  a  double  canoe,  during  a  Kona  gale,  in 
the  channel  of  Kahoolawe.  From  her,  the  Sea,  my 
mother,  I  received  my  strength.  Whenever  I  return 
to  her  arms,  as  for  a  breast  clasp,  as  I  have  returned 
this  day,  I  grow  strong  again  and  immediately.  She, 
to  me,  is  the  milk  giver,  the  life  source  — " 

"  Shades  of  Antaeus!  "  thought  I. 

"  Some  day,"  old  Kohokumu  rambled  on,  "  when 
I  am  really  old,  I  shall  be  reported  of  men  as 
drowned  in  the  sea.  This  will  be  an  idle  thought  of 
men.  In  truth,  I  shall  have  returned  into  the  arms 
of  my  mother,  there  to  rest  under  the  heart  of  her 
breast  until  the  second  birth  of  me,  when  I  shall 
emerge  into  the  sun  a  flashing  youth  of  splendor  like 
Maui  himself  when  he  was  golden  young." 

"  A  queer  religion,"  I  commented. 

'  When  I  was  younger  I  muddled  my  poor  head 
over  queerer  religions,"  old  Kohokumu  retorted. 
'  But  listen,  O  Young  Wise  One,  to  my  elderly  wis 
dom.  This  I  know :  as  I  grow  old  I  seek  less  for  the 


THE  WATER  BABY  151 

truth  from  without  me,  and  find  more  of  the  truth 
from  within  me.  Why  have  I  thought  this  thought 
of  my  return  to  my  mother  and  of  my  rebirth  from 
my  mother  into  the  sun?  You  do  not  know.  I  do 
not  know,  save  that,  without  whisper  of  man's  voice 
or  printed  word,  without  prompting  from  other 
where,  this  thought  has  arisen  from  within  me,  from 
the  deeps  of  me  that  are  as  deep  as  the  sea.  I  am  not 
a  god.  I  do  not  make  things.  Therefore  I  have 
not  .made  this  thought.  I  do  not  know  its  father  or 
its  mother.  It  is  of  old  time  before  me,  and  there 
fore  it  is  true.  Man- does  not  make  truth.  Man,  if 
he  be  not  blind,  only  recognizes  truth  when  he  sees  it. 
Is  this  thought  that  I  have  thought  a  dream?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  you  that  are  a  dream,"  I  laughed. 
"  And  that  I  and  sky  and  sea  and  the  iron-hard  land 
are  dreams,  all  dreams." 

"  I  have  often  thought  that,"  he  assured  me 
soberly.  "  It  may  well  be  so.  Last  night  I  dreamed 
I  was  a  lark  bird,  a  beautiful  singing  lark  of  the  sky 
like  the  larks  on  the  upland  pastures  of  Haleakala. 
And  I  flew  up,  up  toward  the  sun,  singing,  singing, 
as  old  Kohokumu  never  sang.  I  tell  you  now  that  I 
dreamed  I  was  a  lark  bird  singing  in  the  sky.  But 
may  not  I,  the  real  I,  be  the  lark  bird?  And  may 
not  the  telling  of  it  be  the  dream  that  I,  the  lark  bird, 
am  dreaming  now?  Who  are  you  to  tell  me  aye  or 
no?  Dare  you  tell  me  I  am  not  a  lark  bird  asleep 
and  dreaming  that  I  am  old  Kohokumu?  " 


152  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

I  shrugged  my  shouders,  and  he  continued  trium 
phantly. 

"  And  how  do  you  know  but  what  you  are  old 
Maui  himself  asleep  and  dreaming  that  you  are  John 
Lakana  talking  with  me  in  a  canoe?  And  may  you 
not  awake,  old  Maui  yourself,  and  scratch  your  sides 
and  say  that  you  had  a  funny  dream  in  which  you 
dreamed  you  were  a  haole?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  admitted.  "  Besides,  you 
wouldn't  believe  me." 

'  There  is  much  more  in  dreams  than  we  know," 
he  assured  me  with  great  solemnity.  "  Dreams  go 
deep,  all  the  way  down,  maybe  to  before  the  begin 
ning.  May  not  old  Maui  have  only  dreamed  he 
pulled  Hawaii  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  sea? 
Then  would  this  Hawaii  land  be  a  dream,  and  you 
and  I  and  the  squid  there  only  parts  of  Maui's 
dream  ?  And  the  lark  bird,  too  ?  " 

He  sighed  and  let  his  head  sink  on  his  breast. 

"  And  I  worry  my  old  head  about  the  secrets  undis- 
coverable,"  he  resumed,  "  until  I  grow  tired  and  want 
to  forget,  and  so  I  drink  swipes,  and  go  fishing,  and 
sing  old  songs,  and  dream  I  am  a  lark  bird  singing  in 
the  sky.  I  like  that  best  of  all,  and  often  I  dream  it 
when  I  have  drunk  much  swipes  - 

In  great  dejection  of  mood  he  peered  down  into 
the  lagoon  through  the  water  glass. 

'  There  will  be  no  more  bites  for  a  while,"  he 
announced.  "  The  fish  sharks  are  prowling  around, 


THE  WATER  BABY  153 

and  we  shall  have  to  wait  until  they  are  gone.  And 
so  that  the  time  shall  not  be  heavy,  I  will  sing  you  the 
canoe-hauling  song  to  Lono.  You  remember: 

' '  Give  to  me  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  O  Lono ! 
Give  me  the  tree's  main  root,  O  Lono ! 
Give  me  the  ear  of  the  tree,  O  Lono!  — '  " 

"  For  the  love  of  mercy,  don't  sing!  "  I  cut  him 
short.  "  I've  got  a  headache,  and  your  singing  hurts. 
You  may  be  in  devilish  fine  form  to-day,  but  your 
throat  is  rotten.  I'd  rather  you  talked  about  dreams, 
or  told  me  whoppers." 

"  It  is  too  bad  that  you  are  sick,  and  you  so 
young,"  he  conceded  cheerily.  "  And  I  shall  not 
sing  any  more.  I  shall  tell  you  something  you  do 
not  know  and  have  never  heard;  something  that  is  no 
dream  and  no  whopper,  but  is  what  I  know  to  have 
happened.  Not  very  long  ago  there  lived  here,  on 
the  beach  beside  this  very  lagoon,  a  young  boy  whose* 
name  was  Keikiwai,  which,  as  you  know,  means  Wa 
ter  Baby.  He  was  truly  a  water  baby.  His  gods 
were  the  sea  and  fish  gods,  and  he  was  born  with 
knowledge  of  the  language  of  fishes,  which  the  fishes 
did  not  know  until  the  sharks  found  it  out  one  day 
when  they  heard  him  fralk  it. 

"  It  happened  this  way.  The  word  had  been 
brought,  and  the  commands,  by  swift  runners,  that 
the  king  was  making  a  progress  around  the  island, 
and  that  on  the  next  day  a  luau  was  to  be  served 


i54          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

him  by  the  dwellers  here  of  Waihee.  It  was  al 
ways  a  hardship,  when  the  king  made  a  progress, 
for  the  few  dwellers  in  small  places  to  fill  his  many 
stomachs  with  food.  For  he  came  always  with  his 
wife  and  her  women,  with  his  priests  and  sorcerers, 
his  dancers  and  flute  players  and  hula  singers,  and 
fighting  men  and  servants,  and  his  high  chiefs  with 
their  wives,  and  sorcerers  and  fighting  men  and 
servants. 

"  Sometimes,  in  small  places  like  Waihee,  the  path 
of  his  journey  was  marked  afterward  by  leanness  and 
famine.  But  a  king  must  be  fed,  and  it  is  not  good 
to  anger  a  king.  So,  like  warning  in  advance  of  dis 
aster,  Waihee  heard  of  his  coming,  and  all  food- 
getters  of  field  and  pond  and  mountain  and  sea  were 
busied  with  getting  food  for  the  feast.  And  behold, 
everything  was  got,  from  the  choicest  of  royal  taro 
to  sugar-cane  joints  for  the  roasting,  from  opihis  to 
limu,  from  fowl  to  wild  pig  and  poi-fed  puppies  - 
everything  save  one  thing.  The  fishermen  failed  to 
get  lobsters. 

"  Now  be  it  known  that  the  king's  favorite  food 
was  lobster.  He  esteemed  it  above  all  kao-kao 
(food),  and  his  runners  had  made  special  mention 
of  it.  And  there  were  no  lobsters,  and  it  is  not 
good  to  anger  a  king  in  the  belly  of  him.  Too  many 
sharks  had  come  inside  the  reef.  That  was  the 
trouble.  A  young  girl  and  an  old  man  had  been 
eaten  by  them.  And  of  the  young  men  who  dared 


THE  WATER  BABY  155 

dive  for  lobsters,  one  was  eaten,  and  one  lost  an  arm, 
and  another  lost  one  hand  and  one  foot. 

"  But  there  was  Keikiwai,  the  Water  Baby,  only 
eleven  years  old,  but  half  fish  himself  and  talking  the 
language  of  fishes.  To  his  father  the  head  men 
came,  begging  him  to  send  the  Water  Baby  to  get 
lobsters  to  fill  the  king's  belly  and  divert  his  anger. 

"  Now  this,  what  happened,  was  known  and 
observed.  For  the  fishermen  and  their  women,  and 
the  taro  growers  and  the  bird  catchers,  and  the  head 
men,  and  all  Waihee,  came  down  and  stood  back 
from  the  edge  of  the  rock  where  the  Water  Baby 
stood  and  looked  down  at  the  lobsters  far  beneath  on 
the  bottom. 

"  And  a  shark,  looking  up  with  its  cat's  eyes, 
observed  him,  and  sent  out  the  shark  call  of  '  fresh 
meat '  to  assemble  all  the  sharks  in  the  lagoon.  For 
the  sharks  work  thus  together,  which  is  why  they  are 
strong.  And  the  sharks  answered  the  call  till  there 
were  forty  of  them,  long  ones  and  short  ones  and 
lean  ones  and  round  ones,  forty  of  them  by  count; 
and  they  talked  to  one  another,  saying:  '  Look  at 
that  titbit  of  a  child,  that  morsel  delicious  of  human- 
flesh  sweetness  without  the  salt  of  the  sea  in  it,  of 
which  salt  we  have  too  much,  savory  and  good  to  eat, 
melting  to  delight  under  our  hearts  as  our  bellies 
embrace  it  and  extract  from  it  its  sweet.' 

"  Much  more  they  said,  saying:  '  He  has  come 
for  the  lobsters.  When  he  dives  in  he  is  for  one  of 


156          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

us.  Not  like  the  old  man  we  ate  yesterday,  tough  to 
dryness  with  age,  nor  like  the  young  men  whose  mem 
bers  were  too  hard-muscled,  but  tender,  so  tender 
that  he  will  melt  in  our  gullets  ere  our  bellies  receive 
him.  When  he  dives  in,  we  will  all  rush  for  him, 
and  the  lucky  one  of  us  will  get  him,  and,  gulp,  he 
will  be  gone,  one  bite  and  one  swallow,  into  the  belly 
of  the  luckiest  one  of  us.' 

"  And  Keikiwai,  the  Water  Baby,  heard  the  con 
spiracy,  knowing  the  shark  language;  and  he 
addressed  a  prayer,  in  the  shark  language,  to  the 
shark  god  Moku-halii,  and  the  sharks  heard  and 
waved  their  tails  to  one  another  and  winked  their 
cat's  eyes  in  token  that  they  understood  his  talk. 
And  then  he  said:  '  I  shall  now  dive  for  a  lobster 
for  the  king.  And  no  hurt  shall  befall  me,  because 
the  shark  with  the  shortest  tail  is  my  friend  and  will 
protect  me.' 

"  And,  so  saying,  he  picked  up  a  chunk  of  lava 
rock  and  tossed  it  into  the  water,  with  a  big  splash, 
twenty  feet  to  one  side.  The  forty  sharks  rushed 
for  the  splash,  while  he  dived,  and  by  the  time  they 
discovered  they  had  missed  him,  he  had  gone  to  the 
bottom  and  come  back  and  climbed  out,  within  his 
hand  a  fat  lobster,  a  wahine  lobster,  full  of  eggs,  for 
the  king. 

'  Ha !  '  said  the  sharks,  very  angry.  '  There  is 
among  us  a  traitor.  The  titbit  of  a  child,  the  morsel 
of  sweetness,  has  spoken,  and  has  exposed  the  one 


THE  WATER  BABY  157 

among  us  who  has  saved  him.  Let  us  now  measure 
the  length  of  our  tails !  ' 

'  Which  they  did,  in  a  long  row,  side  by  side,  the 
shorter-tailed  ones  cheating  and  stretching  to  gain 
length  on  themselves,  the  longer-tailed  ones  cheating 
and  stretching  in  order  not  to  be  out-cheated  and  out 
stretched.  They  were  very  angry  with  the  one  with 
the  shortest  tail,  and  him  they  rushed  upon  from 
every  side  and  devoured  till  nothing  was  left  of  him. 

"  Again  they  listened  while  they  waited  for  the 
Water  Baby  to  dive  in.  And  again  the  Water 
Baby  made  his  prayer  in  the  shark  language  to  Moku- 
halii,  and  said:  'The  shark  with  the  shortest  tail 
is  my  friend  and  will  protect  me.'  And  again  the 
Water  Baby  tossed  in  a  chunk  of  lava,  this  time 
twenty  feet  away  off  to  the  other  side.  The  sharks 
rushed  for  the  splash,  and  in  their  haste  ran  into  one 
another,  and  splashed  with  their  tails  till  the  water 
was  all  foam  and  they  could  see  nothing,  each  think 
ing  some  other  was  swallowing  the  titbit.  And  the 
Water  Baby  came  up  and  climbed  out  with  another 
fat  lobster  for  the  king. 

"  And  the  thirty-nine  sharks  measured  tails, 
devouring  the  one  with  the  shortest  tail,  so  that  there 
were  only  thirty-eight  sharks.  And  the  Water  Baby 
continued  to  do  what  I  have  said,  and  the  sharks  to 
do  what  I  have  told  you,  while  for  each  shark  that 
was  eaten  by  his  brothers  there  was  another  fat 
lobster  laid  on  the  rock  for  the  king.  Of  course, 


158          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

there  was  much  quarreling  and  argument  among  the 
sharks  when  it  came  to  measuring  tails;  but  in  the 
end  it  worked  out  in  rightness  and  justice,  for,  when 
only  two  sharks  were  left,  they  were  the  two  biggest 
of  the  original  forty. 

"  And  the  Water  Baby  again  claimed  the  shark 
with  the  shortest  tail  was  his  friend,  fooled  the  two 
sharks  with  another  lava  chunk,  and  brought  up 
another  lobster.  The  two  sharks  each  claimed  the 
other  had  the  shorter  tail,  and  each  fought  to  eat  the 
other,  and  the  one  with  the  longer  tail  won  - 

"Hold,  O  Kohokumu!"  I  interrupted.  "Re 
member  that  that  shark  had  already  - 

u  I  know  just  what  you  are  going  to  say,"  he 
snatched  his  recital  back  from  me.  "  And  you  are 
right.  It  took  him  so  long  to  eat  the  thirty-ninth 
shark,  for  inside  the  thirty-ninth  shark  were  already 
the  nineteen  other  sharks  he  had  eaten,  and  inside  the 
fortieth  shark  were  already  the  nineteen  other 
sharks  he  had  eaten,  and  he  did  not  have  the  appetite 
he  had  started  with.  But  do  not  forget  he  was  a 
very  big  shark  to  begin  with. 

"  It  took  him  so  long  to  eat  the  other  shark,  and 
the  nineteen  sharks  inside  the  other  shark,  that  he 
was  still  eating  when  darkness  fell  and  the  people  of 
Waihee  went  away  home  with  all  the  lobsters  for  the 
king.  And  didn't  they  find  the  last  shark  on  the 
beach  next  morning  dead  and  burst  wide  open  with 
all  he  had  eaten?  " 


THE  WATER  BABY  159 

Kohokumu  fetched  a  full  stop  and  held  my  eyes 
with  his  own  shrewd  ones. 

"  Hold,  O  Lakana!  "  he  checked  the  speech  that 
rushed  to  my  tongue.  "  I  know  what  next  you 
would  say.  You  would  say  that  with  my  own  eyes 
I  did  not  see  this,  and  therefore  that  I  do  not  know 
what  I  have  been  telling  you.  But  I  do  know,  and  I 
can  prove  it.  My  father's  father  knew  the  grand 
son  of  the  Water  Baby's  father's  uncle.  Also,  there, 
on  the  rocky  point  to  which  I  point  my  finger  now,  is 
where  the  Water  Baby  stood  and  dived.  I  have 
dived  for  lobsters  there  myself.  It  is  a  great  place 
for  lobsters.  Also,  and  often,  have  I  seen  sharks 
there.  And  there,  on  the  bottom,  as  I  should  know, 
for  I  have  seen  and  counted  them,  are  the  thirty-nine 
lava  rocks  thrown  in  by  the  Water  Baby  as  I  have 
described." 

"But—"  I  began. 

"  Ha  !  "  he  baffled  me.  "  Look !  While  we  have 
talked  the  fish  have  begun  again  to  bite." 

He  pointed  to  three  of  the  bamboo  poles  erect 
and  devil-dancing  in  token  that  fish  were  hooked  and 
struggling  on  the  lines  beneath.  As  he  bent  to  his 
paddle,  he  muttered,  for  my  benefit : 

u  Of  course  I  know.  The  thirty-nine  lava  rocks 
are  still  there.  You  can  count  them  any  day  for 
yourself.  Of  course  I  know,  and  I  know  for  a  fact." 

Glen  Ellen, 

October  2,  1916. 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM 

THERE  was  a  great  noise  and  racket,  but  no 
scandal,  in  Honolulu's  Chinatown.  Those 
within  hearing  distance  merely  shrugged  their 
shoulders  and  smiled  tolerantly  at  the  disturbance 
as  an  affair  of  accustomed  usualness.  "  What  is 
it?  "  asked  Chin  Mo,  down  with  a  sharp  pleurisy,  of 
his  wife,  who  had  paused  for  a  second  at  the  open 
window  to  listen.  "  Only  Ah  Kim,"  was  her  reply. 
"  His  mother  is  beating  him  again." 

The  fracas  was  taking  place  in  the  garden,  in  back 
of  the  living  rooms  that  were  in  back  of  the  store  that 
fronted  on  the  street  with  the  proud  sign  above: 
Ah  Kim  Company,  General  Merchandise.  The  gar 
den  was  a  miniature  domain,  twenty  feet  square,  that 
somehow  cunningly  seduced  the  eye  into  a  sense  and 
seeming  of  illimitable  vastness.  There  were  forests 
of  dwarf  pines  and  oaks,  centuries  old  yet  two  or 
three  feet  in  height,  and  imported  at  enormous  care 
and  expense.  A  tiny  bridge,  a  pace  across,  arched 
over  a  miniature  river  that  flowed  with  rapids  and 
cataracts  from  a  miniature  lake  stocked  with  myriad- 
finned,  orange-miracled  goldfish  that  in  proportion 
to  the  lake  and  landscape  were  whales.  On  every 
side  the  many  windows  of  the  several-storied  shack 

160 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  161 

buildings  looked  down.  In  the  center  of  the  garden, 
on  the  narrow  graveled  walk  close  beside  the  lake, 
Ah  Kim  was  noisily  receiving  his  beating. 

No  Chinese  lad  of  tender  and  beatable  years  was 
Ah  Kim.  His  was  the  store  of  Ah  Kim  Company, 
and  his  was  the  achievement  of  building  it  up  through 
the  long  years  from  the  shoestring  of  savings  of  a 
contract  coolie  laborer  to  a  bank  account  in  four 
figures  and  a  credit  that  was  gilt  edge.  An  even  half 
century  of  summers  and  winters  had  passed  over  his 
head,  and,  in  the  passing,  fattened  him  comfortably 
and  smugly.  Short  of  stature,  his  full  front  was 
as  rotund  as  a  watermelon  seed.  His  face  was 
moon-faced.  His  garb  was  dignified  and  silken,  and 
his  black  silk  skullcap  with  the  red  button  atop,  now, 
alas,  fallen  on  the  ground,  was  the  skullcap  worn  by 
the  successful  and  dignified  merchants  of  his  race. 

But  his  appearance,  in  this  moment  of  the  present, 
was  anything  but  dignified.  Dodging  and  ducking 
under  a  rain  of  blows  from  a  bamboo  cane,  he  was 
crouched  over  in  a  half-doubled  posture.  When  he 
was  rapped  on  the  knuckles  and  elbows,  with  which 
he  shielded  his  face  and  head,  his  winces  were  genu 
ine  and  involuntary.  From  the  many  surrounding 
windows  the  neighborhood  looked  down  with  placid 
enjoyment. 

And  she  who  wielded  the  stick  so  shrewdly  from 
long  practice!  Seventy-four  years  old,  she  looked 
every  minute  of  her  time.  Her  thin  legs  were 


1 62  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

encased  in  straight-lined  pants  of  linen  stiff-textured 
and  shiny  black.  Her  scraggly  gray  hair  was  drawn 
unrelentingly  and  flatly  back  from  a  narrow,  unre 
lenting  forehead.  Eyebrows  she  had  none,  having 
long  since  shed  them.  Pier  eyes,  of  pinhole  tinyness, 
were  blackest  black.  She  was  shockingly  cadaver 
ous.  Her  shriveled  forearm,  exposed  by  the  loose 
sleeve,  possessed  no  more  of  muscle  than  several  taut 
bowstrings  stretched  across  meager  bone  under 
yellow,  parchment-like  skin.  Along  this  mummy 
arm  jade  bracelets  shot  up  and  down  and  clashed 
with  every  blow. 

"  Ah!  "  she  cried  out,  rhythmically  accenting  her 
blows  in  series  of  three  to  each  shrill  observation. 
"  I  forbade  you  to  talk  to  Li  Faa.  To-day  you 
stopped  on  the  street  with  her.  Not  an  hour  ago. 
Half  an  hour  by  the  clock  you  talked.  What  is 
that?" 

"  It  was  the  thrice  accursed  telephone,"  Ah  Kim 
muttered,  while  she  suspended  the  stick  to  catch  what 
he  said.  "  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy  told  you.  I  know  she 
did.  I  saw  her  see  me.  I  shall  have  the  telephone 
taken  out.  It  is  of  the  devil." 

"  It  is  a  device  of  all  the  devils,"  Mrs.  Tai  Fu 
agreed,  taking  a  fresh  grip  on  the  stick.  "  Yet  shall 
the  telephone  remain.  I  like  to  talk  with  Mrs. 
Chang  Lucy  over  the  telephone." 

"  She  has  the  eyes  of  ten  thousand  cats,"  quoth 
Ah  Kim,  ducking  and  receiving  the  stick  stingingly  on 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  163 

his  knuckles.  "  And  the  tongues  of  ten  thousand 
toads,"  he  supplemented  ere  his  next  duck. 

"  She  is  an  impudent-faced  and  evil-mannered 
hussy,"  Mrs.  Tai  Fu  accented. 

"  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy  was  ever  that,"  Ah  Kim  mur 
mured  like  the  dutiful  son  he  was. 

"  I  speak  of  Li  Faa,"  his  mother  corrected  with 
stick  emphasis.  "  She  is  only  half  Chinese,  as  you 
know.  Her  mother  was  a  shameless  kanaka.  She 
wore  skirts  like  the  degraded  haole  women  —  also 
corsets,  as  I  have  seen  for  myself.  Where  are  her 
children?  Yet  has  she  buried  two  husbands." 

"  The  one  was  drowned,  the  other  kicked  by  a 
horse,"  Ah  Kim  qualified. 

"  A  year  of  her,  unworthy  son  of  a  noble  father, 
and  you  would  gladly  be  going  out  to  get  drowned  or 
be  kicked  by  a  horse." 

Subdued  chucklings  and  laughter  from  the  window 
audience  applauded  her  point. 

"  You  buried  two  husbands  yourself,  revered 
mother,"  Ah  Kim  was  stung  to  retort. 

"  I  had  the  good  taste  not  to  marry  a  third. 
Besides,  my  two  husbands  died  honorably  in  their 
beds.  They  were  not  kicked  by  horses  nor  drowned 
at  sea.  What  business  is  it  of  our  neighbors  that 
you  should  inform  them  I  have  had  two  husbands,  or 
ten,  or  none?  You  have  made  a  scandal  of  me 
before  all  our  neighbors,  and  for  that  I  shall  now 
give  you  a  real  beating." 


1 64          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Ah  Kim  endured  the  staccato  rain  of  blows,  and 
said  when  his  mother  paused,  breathless  and  weary: 

"  Always  have  I  insisted  and  pleaded,  honorable 
mother,  that  you  beat  me  in  the  house,  with  the  win 
dows  and  doors  closed  tight,  and  not  in  the  open 
street  or  the  garden  open  behind  the  house." 

'  You  have  called  this  unthinkable  Li  Faa  the 
Silvery  Moon  Blossom,"  Mrs.  Tai  Fu  rejoined,  quite 
illogically  and  femininely,  but  with  utmost  success  in 
so  far  as  she  deflected  her  son  from  continuance  of 
the  thrust  he  had  so  swiftly  driven  home. 

"  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy  told  you,"  he  charged. 

"  I  was  told  over  the  telephone,"  his  mother 
evaded.  "  I  do  not  know  all  voices  that  speak  to  me 
over  that  contrivance  of  all  the  devils." 

Strangely,  Ah  Kim  made  no  effort  to  run  away 
from  his  mother,  which  he  could  easily  have  done. 
She,  on  the  other  hand,  found  fresh  cause  for  more 
stick  blows. 

"Ah!  Stubborn  one!  Why  do  you  not  cry? 
Mule  that  shameth  its  ancestors !  Never  have  I 
made  you  cry.  From  the  time  you  were  a  little  boy 
I  have  never  made  you  cry.  Answer  me  !  Why  do 
you  not  cry?  " 

Weak  and  breathless  from  her  exertions,  she 
dropped  the  stick  and  panted  and  shook  as  if  with  a 
nervous  palsy. 

"  I  do  not  know,  except  that  it  is  my  way,"  Ah  Kim 
replied,  gazing  solicitously  at  his  mother.  "  I  shall 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  165 

bring  you  a  chair  now,  and  you  will  sit  down  and  rest 
and  feel  better." 

But  she  flung  away  from  him  with  a  snort  and  tot 
tered  agedly  across  the  garden  into  the  house. 
Meanwhile  recovering  his  skullcap  and  smoothing 
his  disordered  attire,  Ah  Kim  rubbed  his  hurts  and 
gazed  after  her  with  eyes  of  devotion.  He  even 
smiled,  and  almost  might  it  appear  that  he  had 
enjoyed  the  beating. 

Ah  Kim  had  been  so  beaten  ever  since  he  was  a 
boy,  when  he  lived  on  the  high  banks  of  the  eleventh 
cataract  of  the  Yangtze  River.  Here  his  father  had 
been  born  and  toiled  all  his  days  from  young  man 
hood  as  a  towing  coolie.  When  he  died,  Ah  Kim,  in 
his  own  young  manhood,  took  up  the  same  honorable 
profession.  Farther  back  than  all  remembered 
annals  of  the  family,  had  the  males  of  it  been  towing 
coolies.  At  the  time  of  Christ  his  direct  ancestors 
had  been  doing  the  same  thing,  meeting  the  pre 
cisely  similarly  modeled  junks  below  the  white  water 
at  the  foot  of  the  canon,  bending  the  half  mile  of 
rope  to  each  junk,  and,  according  to  size,  tailing  on 
from  a  hundred  to  two  hundred  coolies  of  them  and 
by  sheer,  two-legged  man  power,  bowed  forward  and 
down  till  their  hands  touched  the  ground  and  their 
faces  were  sometimes  within  a  foot  of  it,  dragging 
the  junk  up  through  the  white  water  to  the  head  of 
the  canon. 


1 66  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Apparently,  down  all  the  intervening  centuries,  the 
payment  of  the  trade  had  not  picked  up.  His  father, 
his  father's  father,  and  himself,  Ah  Kim,  had 
received  the  same  invariable  remuneration  —  per 
junk  one-fourteenth  of  a  cent,  at  the  rate  he  had  since 
learned  money  was  valued  in  Hawaii.  On  long, 
lucky,  summer  days  when  the  waters  were  easy,  the 
junks  many,  the  hours  of  daylight  sixteen,  sixteen 
hours  of  such  heroic  toil  would  earn  over  a  cent. 
But  in  a  whole  year  a  towing  coolie  did  not  earn 
more  than  a  dollar  and  a  half.  People  could  and 
did  live  on  such  an  income.  There  were  women  ser 
vants  who  received  a  yearly  wage  of  a  dollar.  The 
net  makers  of  Ti  Wi  earned  between  a  dollar  and 
two  dollars  a  year.  They  lived  on  such  wages,  or, 
at  least,  they  did  not  die  on  them.  But  for  the  tow 
ing  coolies  there  were  pickings,  which  were  what 
made  the  profession  honorable  and  the  guild  a  close 
and  hereditary  corporation  or  labor  union.  One 
junk  in  five  that  was  dragged  up  through  the  rapids 
or  lowered  down  was  wrecked.  One  junk  in  every 
ten  was  a  total  loss.  The  coolies  of  the  towing  guild 
knew  the  freaks  and  whims  of  the  currents,  and  grap 
pled  and  raked  and  netted  a  wet  harvest  from  the 
river.  They  of  the  guild  were  looked  up  to  by  lesser 
coolies,  for  they  could  afford  to  drink  brick  tea  and 
eat  No.  4  rice  every  day. 

And  Ah  Kim  had  been  contented  and  proud  until, 
one  bitter  spring  day  of  driving  sleet  and  hail,  he 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  167 

dragged  ashore  a  drowning  Cantonese  sailor.  It 
was  this  wanderer,  thawing  out  by  his  fire,  who  first 
named  the  magic  name  Hawaii  to  him.  He  himself 
had  never  been  to  that  laborer's  paradise,  said  the 
sailor;  but  many  Chinese  had  gone  there  from  Can 
ton,  and  he  had  heard  the  talk  of  their  letters  written 
back.  In  Hawaii  was  never  frost  nor  famine.  The 
very  pigs,  never  fed,  were  ever  fat  of  the  generous 
offal  disdained  by  man.  A  Cantonese  or  Yangtze 
family  could  live  on  the  waste  of  an  Hawaiian  coolie. 
And  wages !  In  gold  dollars,  ten  a  month,  or,  in 
trade  dollars,  twenty  a  month,  was  what  the  contract 
Chinese  coolie  received  from  the  white-devil  sugar 
kings.  In  a  year  the  coolie  received  the  prodigious 
sum  of  two  hundred  and  forty  trade  dollars  —  more 
than  a  hundred  times  what  a  coolie,  toiling  ten  times 
as  hard,  received  on  the  eleventh  cataract  of  the 
Yangtze.  In  short,  all  things  considered,  an  Hawai 
ian  coolie  was  one  hundred  times  better  off,  and,  when 
the  amount  of  labor  was  estimated,  a  thousand  times 
better  off.  In  addition  was  the  wonderful  climate. 

When  Ah  Kim  was  twenty-four,  despite  his  moth-" 
ers'  pleadings  and  beatings,  he  resigned  from  the 
ancient  and  honorable  guild  of  the  eleventh  cataract 
towing  coolies,  left  his  mother  to  go  into  a  boss 
coolie's  household  as  a  servant  for  a  dollar  a  year 
and  an  annual  dress  to  cost  not  less  than  thirty  cents, 
and  himself  departed  down  the  Yangtze  to  the  great 
sea.  Many  were  his  adventures  and  severe  his  toils 


1 68  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

and  hardships  ere,  as  a  salt-sea  junk  sailor,  he  won 
to  Canton.  When  he  was  twenty-six  he  signed  five 
years  of  his  life  and  labor  away  to  the  Hawaiian 
sugar  kings  and  departed,  one  of  eight  hundred  con 
tract  coolies,  for  that  far  island  land,  on  a  festering 
steamer  run  by  a  crazy  captain  and  drunken  officers 
and  rejected  of  Lloyds. 

Honorable,  among  laborers,  had  Ah  Kim's  rating 
been  as  a  towing  coolie.  In  Hawaii,  receiving  a 
hundred  times  more  pay,  he  found  himself  looked 
down  upon  as  the  lowest  of  the  low  —  a  plantation 
coolie,  than  which  could  be  nothing  lower.  But  a 
coolie  whose  ancestors  had  towed  junks  up  the  elev 
enth  cataract  of  the  Yangtze  since  before  the  birth  of 
Christ  inevitably  inherits  one  character  in  large 
degree;  namely,  the  character  of  patience.  This 
patience  was  Ah  Kim's.  At  the  end  of  five  years,  his 
compulsory  servitude  over,  thin  as  ever  in  body,  in 
bank  account  he  lacked  just  ten  trade  dollars  of  pos 
sessing  a  thousand  trade  dollars. 

On  this  sum  he  could  have  gone  back  to  the 
Yangtze  and  retired  for  life  a  really  wealthy  man. 
He  would  have  possessed  a  larger  sum,  had  he  not, 
on  occasion,  conservatively  played  che  fa  and  fan-tan, 
and  had  he  not,  for  a  twelvemonth,  toiled  among  the 
centipedes  and  scorpions  of  the  stifling  cane  fields  in 
the  semi-dream  of  a  continuous  opium  debauch. 
Why  he  had  not  toiled  the  whole  five  years  under  the 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  169 

spell  of  opium  was  the  expensiveness  of  the  habit. 
He  had  had  no  moral  scruples.  The  drug  had  cost 
too  much. 

But  Ah  Kim  did  not  return  to  China.  He  had 
observed  the  business  life  of  Hawaii  and  developed 
a  vaulting  ambition.  For  six  months,  in  order  to 
learn  business  and  English  at  the  bottom,  he  clerked 
in  the  plantation  store.  At  the  end  of  this  time  he 
knew  more  about  that  particular  store  than  did  ever 
plantation  manager  know  about  any  plantation  store. 
When  he  resigned  his  position  he  was  receiving 
forty  gold  a  month,  or  eighty  trade,  and  he  was  begin 
ning  to  put  on  flesh.  Also,  his  attitude  toward  mere 
contract  coolies  had  become  distinctively  aristocratic. 
The  manager  offered  to  raise  him  to  sixty  gold, 
which,  by  the  year,  would  constitute  a  fabulous  four 
teen  hundred  and  forty  trade,  or  seven  hundred 
times  his  annual  earning  on  the  Yangtze  as  a  two- 
legged  horse  at  one-fourteenth  of  a  gold  cent  per 
junk. 

Instead  of  accepting,  Ah  Kim  departed  to  Hono 
lulu  and  in  the  big  general  merchandise  store  of 
Fong  &  Chow  Fong  began  at  the  bottom  for  fifteen 
gold  per  month.  He  worked  a  year  and  a  half,  and 
resigned  when  he  was  thirty-three,  despite  the  seven 
ty-five  gold  per  month  his  Chinese  employers  were 
paying  him.  Then  it  was  that  he  put  up  his  own 
sign:  Ah  Kim  Company,  General  Merchandise. 


1 70  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Also,  better  fed,  there  was  about  .his  less  meager 
figure  a  foreshadowing  of  the  melon-seed  rotundity 
that  was  to  attach  to  him  in  future  years. 

With  the  years  he  prospered  increasingly,  so  that, 
when  he  was  thirty-six,  the  promise  of  his  figure  was 
fulfilling  rapidly,  and,  himself  a  member  of  the  exclu 
sive  and  powerful  Hai  Gum  Tong  and  of  the  Chinese 
Merchants'  Association,  he  was  accustomed  to  sitting 
as  host  at  dinners  that  cost  him  as  much  as  thirty 
years  of  towing  on  the  eleventh  cataract  would  have 
earned  him.  Two  things  he  missed:  a  wife,  and  his 
mother  to  lay  the  stick  on  him  as  of  yore. 

When  he  was  thirty-seven  he  consulted  his  bank 
balance.  It  stood  him  three  thousand  gold.  For 
twenty-five  hundred  down  and  an  easy  mortgage  he 
could  buy  the  three-story  shack  building  and  the 
ground  in  fee  simple  on  which  it  stood.  But  to  do 
this  left  only  five  hundred  for  a  wife.  Fu  Yee  Po 
had  a  marriageable,  properly  small-footed  daughter 
whom  he  was  willing  to  import  from  China  and  sell 
to  him  for  eight  hundred  gold  plus  the  costs  of  impor 
tation.  Further,  Fu  Yee  Po  was  even  willing  to 
take  five  hundred  down  and  the  remainder  on  note 
at  six  per  cent. 

Ah  Kim,  thirty-seven  years  of  age,  fat  and  a  bach 
elor,  really  did  want  a  wife,  especially  a  small-footed 
wife;  for,  Chinese  born  and  reared,  the  immemorial 
small-footed  female  had  been  deeply  impressed  into 
his  fantasy  of  woman.  But  more,  even  more  and 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  171 

far  more  than  a  small-footed  wife,  did  he  want  his 
mother  and  his  mother's  delectable  beatings.  So  he 
declined  Fu  Yee  Po's  easy  terms,  and  at  much  less 
cost  imported  his  own  mother  from  servant  in  a  boss 
coolie's  house  at  a  yearly  wage  of  a  dollar  and  a 
thirty-cent  dress  to  be  mistress  of  his  Honolulu  three- 
story  shack  building  with  two  household  servants, 
three  clerks,  and  a  porter  of  all  work  under  her,  to 
say  nothing  of  ten  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  dress 
goods  on  the  shelves  that  ranged  from  the  cheapest 
cotton  crepes  to  the  most  expensive  hand-embroid 
ered  silks.  For  be  it  known  that  even  in  that  early 
day  Ah  Kim's  emporium  was  beginning  to  cater  to 
the  tourist  trade  from  the  States. 

For  thirteen  years  Ah  Kim  had  lived  tolerably 
happily  with  his  mother  and  by  her  been  methodically 
beaten  for  causes  just  or  unjust,  real  or  fancied;  and 
at  the  end  of  it  all  he  knew  as  strongly  as  ever  the 
ache  of  his  heart  and  head  for  a  wife  and  of  his  loins 
for  sons  to  live  after  him  and  carry  on  the  dynasty  of 
Ah  Kim  Company.  Such  the  dream  that  has  ever 
vexed  men  from  those  early  ones  who  first  usurped 
a  hunting  right,  monopolized  a  sand  bar  for  a  fish 
trap,  or  stormed  a  village  and  put  the  males  thereof 
to  the  sword.  Kings,  millionaires,  and  Chinese  mer 
chants  of  Honolulu  have  this  in  common,  despite  that 
they  may  praise  God  for  having  made  them  differ 
ently  and  in  self-likable  images. 

And  the  ideal  of  woman  that  Ah  Kim  at  fifty 


172  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

ached  for  had  changed  from  his  ideal  at  thirty-seven. 
No  small-footed  wife  did  he  want  now,  but  a  free, 
natural,  out-stepping,  normal-footed  woman  who, 
somehow,  appeared  to  him  in  his  daydreams  and 
haunted  his  night  visions  in  the  form  of  Li  Faa,  the 
Silvery  Moon  Blossom.  What  if  she  were  twice 
widowed,  the  daughter  of  a  Kanaka  mother,  the 
wearer  of  white-devil  skirts  and  corsets  and  high- 
heeled  slippers?  He  wanted  her.  It  seemed  it  was 
written  that  she  should  be  joint  ancestor  with  him  of 
the  line  that  would  continue  the  ownership  and  man 
agement  through  the  generations  of  Ah  Kim  Com 
pany,  General  Merchandise. 

"  I  will  have  no  half  pake  daughter-in-law,"  his 
mother  often  reiterated  to  Ah  Kim,  pake  being  the 
Hawaiian  word  for  Chinese.  "  All  pake  must  my 
daughter-in-law  be,  even  as  you,  my  son,  and  as  I, 
your  mother.  And  she  must  wear  trousers,  my  son, 
as  all  the  women  of  our  family  before  her.  No 
woman,  in  the  she-devil  skirts  and  corsets,  can  pay 
due  reverence  to  our  ancestors.  Corsets  and  rever 
ence  do  not  go  together.  Such  a  one  is  this  shame 
less  Li  Faa.  She  is  impudent  and  independent,  and 
will  be  neither  obedient  to  her  husband  nor  her  hus 
band's  mother.  This  brazen-faced  Li  Faa  would 
believe  herself  the  source  of  life  and  the  first  ances 
tor,  recognizing  no  ancestors  before  her.  She 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  173 

laughs  at  our  joss  sticks  and  paper  prayers  and  fam 
ily  gods,  as  I  have  been  well  told  — " 

"  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy,"  Ah  Kim  groaned. 

"  Not  alone  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy,  O  son.  I  have  in 
quired.  At  least  a  dozen  have  heard  her  say  of  our 
joss  house  that  it  is  all  monkey  foolishness.  The 
words  are  hers  —  she,  who  eats  raw  fish,  raw  squid, 
and  baked  dog.  Ours  is  the  foolishness  of  monkeys. 
Yet  would  she  marry  you,  a  monkey,  because  of  your 
store  that  is  a  palace  and  of  the  wealth  that  makes 
you  a  great  man.  And  she  would  put  shame  on  me, 
and  on  your  father  before  you  long  honorably  dead." 

And  there  was  no  discussing  the  matter.  As 
things  were,  Ah  Kim  knew  his  mother  was  right. 
Not  for  nothing  had  Li  Faa  been  born  forty  years 
before  of  a  Chinese  father,  renegade  to  all  tradition, 
and  of  a  Kanaka  mother  whose  immediate  forebears 
had  broken  the  taboos,  cast  down  their  own  Poly 
nesian  gods,  and  weak-heartedly  listened  to  the 
preaching  about  the  remote  and  unimageable  god  of 
the  Christian  missionaries.  Li  Faa,  educated,  who 
could  read  and  write  English  and  Hawaiian  and  a 
fair  measure  of  Chinese,  claimed  to  believe  in  noth 
ing,  although  in  her  secret  heart  she  feared  the 
kahunas  (Hawaiian  witch  doctors) ,  who  she  was  cer 
tain  could  charm  away  ill  luck  or  pray  one  to  death. 
Li  Faa  would  never  come  into  Ah  Kim's  house,  as 
he  thoroughly  knew,  and  kowtow  to  his  mother  and 


174          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

be  slave  to  her  in  the  immemorial  Chinese  way.  Li 
Faa,  from  the  Chinese  angle,  was  a  new  woman,  a 
feminist,  who  rode  horseback  astride,  disported  im 
modestly  garbed  at  Waikiki  on  the  surf  boards,  and 
at  more  than  one  luau  had  been  known  to  dance  the 
hula  with  the  worst  and  in  excess  of  the  worst  to  the 
scandalous  delight  of  all. 

Ah  Kim  himself,  a  generation  younger  than  his 
mother,  had  been  bitten  by  the  acid  of  modernity. 
The  old  order  held,  in  so  far  as  he  still  felt  in  his 
subtlest  crypts  of  being  the  dusty  hand  of  the  past 
resting  on  him,  residing  in  him;  yet  he  subscribed 
to  heavy  policies  of  fire  and  life  insurance,  acted  as 
treasurer  for  the  local  Chinese  revolutionists  that 
were  for  turning  the  Celestial  empire  into  a  republic, 
contributed  to  the  funds  of  the  Hawaii-born  Chinese 
baseball  nine  that  excelled  the  Yankee  nines  at  their 
own  game,  talked  theosophy  with  Katso  Suguri,  the 
Japanese  Buddhist  and  silk  importer,  fell  for  police 
graft,  played  and  paid  his  insidious  share  in  the 
democratic  politics  of  annexed  Hawaii,  and  was 
thinking  of  buying  an  automobile.  Ah  Kim  never 
dared  bare  himself  to  himself  and  thresh  out  and 
winnow  out  how  much  of  the  old  he  had  ceased 
to  believe  in.  His  mother  was  of  the  old,  yet  he 
revered  her  and  was  happy  under  her  bamboo  stick. 
Li  Faa,  the  Silvery  Moon  Blossom,  was  of  the  new, 
yet  he  could  never  be  quite  completely  happy  with 
out  her. 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  175 

For  he  loved  Li  Faa.  Moon-faced,  rotund  as  a 
watermelon  seed,  a  canny  business  man,  wise  with 
half  a  century  of  living  —  nevertheless  Ah  Kim  be 
came  an  artist  when  he  thought  of  her.  He  thought 
of  her  in  poems  of  names,  as  woman  transmuted  into 
flower  terms  of  beauty  and  philosophic  abstractions 
of  achievement  and  easement.  She  was,  to  him,  and 
alone  to  him  of  all  men  in  the  world,  his  Plum  Blos 
som,  his  Tranquillity  of  Woman,  his  Flower  of  Se 
renity,  his  Moon  Lily,  and  his  Perfect  Rest.  And 
as  he  murmured  these  love  endearments  of  namings, 
it  seemed  to  him  that  in  them  were  the  ripplings  of 
running  waters,  the  tinklings  of  silver  wind  bells, 
and  the  scents  of  the  oleander  and  the  jasmine. 
She  was  his  poem  of  woman,  a  lyric  delight,  a  three 
dimensions  of  flesh  and  spirit  delicious,  a  fate  and  a 
good  fortune  written,  ere  the  first  man  and  woman 
were,  by  the  gods  whose  whim  had  been  to  make  all 
men  and  women  for  sorrow  and  for  joy. 

But  his  mother  put  into  his  hand  the  ink  brush 
and  placed  under  it,  on  the  table,  the  writing  tablet. 

u  Paint,"  said  she,  "  the  ideograph  of  to  marry/' 

He  obeyed,  scarcely  wondering,  with  the  deft  ar 
tistry  of  his  race  and  training  painting  the  symbolic 
hieroglyphic. 

u  Resolve  it,"  commanded  his  mother. 

Ah  Kim  looked  at  her,  curious,  willing  to  please, 
unaware  of  the  drift  of  her  intent. 

"  Of    what    is    it    composed?  "    she    persisted. 


176          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  What  are  the  three  originals,  the  sum  of  which  is 
it:  to  marry,  marriage,  the  coming  together  and  wed 
ding  of  a  man  and  a  woman?  Paint  them,  paint 
them  apart,  the  three  originals,  unrelated,  so  that  we 
may  know  how  the  wise  men  of  old  wisely  built  up 
the  ideograph  of  to  marry." 

And  Ah  Kim,  obeying  and  painting,  saw  that  what 
he  had  painted  was  three  picture  signs  —  the  picture 
signs  of  a  hand,  an  ear,  and  a  woman. 

"Name  them,"  said  his  mother;  and  he  named 
them. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  she.  "  It  is  a  great  tale.  It 
is  the  stuff  of  the  painted  pictures  of  marriage. 
Such  marriage  was  in  the  beginning;  such  shall  it 
always  be  in  my  house.  The  hand  of  the  man  takes 
the  woman's  ear  and  by  it  leads  her  away  to  his 
house,  where  she  is  to  be  obedient  to  him  and  to  his 
mother.  I  was  taken  by  the  ear,  so,  by  your  long 
honorably  dead  father.  I  have  looked  at  your  hand. 
It  is  not  like  his  hand.  Also  have  I  looked  at  the 
ear  of  Li  Faa.  Never  will  you  lead  her  by  the  ear. 
She  has  not  that  kind  of  an  ear.  I  shall  live  a  long 
time  yet,  and  I  will  be  mistress  in  my  son'?  house, 
after  our  ancient  way,  until  I  die." 

"  But  she  is  my  revered  ancestress,"  Ah  Kim  ex 
plained  to  Li  Faa. 

He  was  timidly  unhappy;  for  Li  Faa,  having  as 
certained  that  Mrs.  Tai  Fu  was  at  the  temple  of  the 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  177 

Chinese  ^Esculapius  making  a  food  offering  of  dried 
duck  and  prayers  for  her  declining  health,  had  taken 
advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  call  upon  him  in 
his  store. 

Li  Faa  pursed  her  insolent,  unpainted  lips  into 
the  form  of  a  half-opened  rosebud,  and  replied: 

"  That  will  do  for  China.  I  do  not  know  China. 
This  is  Hawaii,  and  in  Hawaii  the  customs  of  all 
foreigners  change." 

"  She  is  nevertheless  my  ancestress,"  Ah  Kim  pro 
tested,  "  the  mother  who  gave  me  birth,  whether  I 
am  in  China  or  Hawaii,  O  Silvery  Moon  Blossom 
that  I  want  for  wife." 

"  I  have  had  two  husbands,"  Li  Faa  stated  plac 
idly.  "  One  was  a  pake,  one  was  a  Portuguese.  I 
learned  much  from  both.  Also  am  I  educated.  I 
have  been  to  high  school,  and  I  have  played  the 
piano  in  public.  And  I  learned  from  my  two  hus 
bands  much.  The  pake  makes  the  best  husband. 
Never  again  will  I  marry  anything  but  a  pake.  But 
he  must  not  take  me  by  the  ear — " 

;'  How  do  you  know  of  that?  "  he  broke  in  sus 
piciously. 

u  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy,"  was  the  reply.  "  Mrs. 
Chang  Lucy  tells  me  everything  that  your  mother 
tells  her,  and  your  mother  tells  her  much.  So  let 
me  tell  you  that  mine  is  not  that  kind  of  an  ear." 

"  Which  is  what  my  honored  mother  has  told 
me,"  Ah  Kim  groaned. 


1 78  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  Which  is  what  your  honored  mother  told  Mrs. 
Chang  Lucy,  which  is  what  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy  told 
me,"  Li  Faa  completed  equably.  "  And  I  now  tell 
you,  O  Third  Husband  To  Be,  that  the  man  is  not 
born  who  will  lead  me  by  the  ear.  It  is  not  the  way 
in  Hawaii.  I  will  go  only  hand  in  hand  with  my 
man,  side  by  side,  fifty-fifty,  as  is  the  haole  slang 
just  now.  My  Portuguese  husband  thought  differ 
ent.  He  tried  to  beat  me.  I  landed  him  three 
times  in  the  police  court,  and  each  time  he  worked 
out  his  sentence  on  the  reef.  After  that  he  got 
drowned." 

"  My  mother  has  been  my  mother  for  fifty  years," 
Ah  Kim  declared  stoutly. 

"  And  for  fifty  years  has  she  beaten  you,"  Li  Faa 
giggled.  "  How  my  father  used  to  laugh  at  Yap 
Ten  Shin!  Like  you,  Yap  Ten  Shin  had  been  born 
in  China,  and  had  brought  the  Chinese  customs  with 
him.  His  old  father  was  forever  beating  him  with 
a  stick.  He  loved  his  father.  But  his  father  beat 
him  harder  than  ever  when  he  became  a  missionary 
pake.  Every  time  he  went  to  the  missionary  serv 
ices,  his  father  beat  him.  And  every  time  the  mis 
sionary  heard  of  it  he  was  harsh  in  his  language  to 
Yap  Ten  Shin  for  allowing  his  father  to  beat  him. 
And  my  father  laughed  and  laughed,  for  my  father 
was  a  very  liberal  pake  who  had  changed  his  cus 
toms  quicker  than  most  foreigners.  And  all  the 
trouble  was  because  Yap  Ten  Shin  had  a  loving 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  179 

heart.  He  loved  his  honorable  father.  He  loved 
the  God  of  Love  of  the  Christian  missionary.  But 
in  the  end,  in  me,  he  found  the  greatest  love  of  all, 
which  is  the  love  of  woman.  In  me  he  forgot  his 
love  for  his  father  and  his  love  for  the  loving 
Christ. 

"  And  he  offered  my  father  six  hundred  gold  for 
me  —  the  price  was  small  because  my  feet  were  not 
small.  But  I  was  half  Kanaka.  I  said  that  I  was 
not  a  slave  woman,  and  that  I  would  be  sold  to  no 
man.  My  high-school  teacher  was  a  haole  old  maid 
who  said  love  of  woman  was  so  beyond  price  that 
it  must  never  be  sold.  Perhaps  that  is  why  she 
was  an  old  maid.  She  was  not  beautiful.  She 
could  not  give  herself  away.  My  Kanaka  mother 
said  it  was  not  the  Kanaka  way  to  sell  their  daugh 
ters  for  a  money  price.  They  gave  their  daughters 
for  love,  and  she  would  listen  to  reason  if  Yap  Ten 
Shin  provided  luaus  in  quantity  and  quality.  My 
pake  father,  as  I  have  told  you,  was  liberal.  He 
asked  me  if  I  wanted  Yap  Ten  Shin  for  my  hus 
band.  And  I  said  yes;  and  freely,  of  myself,  I  went 
to  him.  He  it  was  who  was  kicked  by  a  horse ;  but 
he  was  a  very  good  husband  before  he  was  kicked 
by  the  horse. 

u  As  for  you,  Ah  Kim,  you  shall  always  be  hon 
orable  and  lovable  for  me,  and  some  day,  when  it 
is  not  necessary  for  you  to  take  me  by  the  ear,  I 
shall  marry  you  and  come  here  and  be  with  you  al- 


i8o          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

ways,  and  you  will  be  the  happiest  pake  in  all  Ha 
waii  ;  for  I  have  had  two  husbands,  and  gone  to  high 
school,  and  am  most  wise  in  making  a  husband 
happy.  But  that  will  be  when  your  mother  has 
ceased  to  beat  you.  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy  tells  me  that 
she  beats  you  very  hard." 

"She  does,"  Ah  Kim  affirmed.  "Behold!" 
He  thrust  back  his  loose  sleeves,  exposing  to  the 
elbow  his  smooth  and  cherubic  forearms.  They 
were  mantled  with  black  and  blue  marks  that  ad 
vertised  the  weight  and  number  of  blows  so  shielded 
from  his  head  and  face. 

"  But  she  has  never  made  me  cry,"  Ah  Kim  dis 
claimed  hastily.  "  Never,  from  the  time  I  was  a 
little  boy,  has  she  made  me  cry." 

"  So  Mrs.  Chang  Lucy  says,"  Li  Faa  observed. 
"  She  says  that  your  honorable  mother  often  com 
plains  to  her  that  she  has  never  made  you  cry." 

A  sibilant  warning  from  one  of  his  clerks  was  too 
late.  Having  regained  the  house  by  way  of  the 
back  alley,  Mrs.  Tai  Fu  emerged  right  upon  them 
from  out  of  the  living  apartments.  Never  had  Ah 
Kim  seen  his  mother's  eyes  so  blazing  furious.  She 
ignored  Li  Faa,  as  she  screamed  at  him: 

"  Now  will  I  make  you  cry.  As  never  before 
shall  I  beat  you  until  you  do  cry." 

1  Then  let  us  go  into  the  back  rooms,  honorable 
mother,"  Ah  Kim  suggested.  "  We  will  close  the 
windows  and  the  doors,  and  there  may  you  beat  me." 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  181 

"  No.  Here  shall  you  be  beaten  before  all  the 
world  and  this  shameless  woman  who  would  with 
her  own  hand  take  you  by  the  ear  and  call  such 
sacrilege  marriage !  Stay,  shameless  woman." 

"  I  am  going  to  stay  anyway,"  said  Li  Faa.  She 
favored  the  clerks  with  a  truculent  stare.  "  And 
I'd  like  to  see  anything  less  than  the  police  put  me 
out  of  here." 

"  You  will  never  be  my  daughter-in-law,"  Mrs. 
Tai  Fu  snapped. 

Li  Faa  nodded  her  head  in  agreement. 

"  But  just  the  same,"  she  added,  "  shall  your  son 
be  my  third  husband." 

'  You  mean  when  I  am  dead?  "  the  old  mother 
screamed. 

'  The  sun  rises  each  morning,"  Li  Faa  said  enig 
matically.  "  All  my  life  have  I  seen  it  rise  — " 

"  You  are  forty,  and  you  wear  corsets." 

"  But  I  do  not  dye  my  hair  —  that  will  come 
later,"  Li  Faa  calmly  retorted.  "  As  to  my  age, 
you  are  right.  I  shall  be  forty-one  next  Kame- 
hameha  Day.  For  forty  years  I  have  seen  the  sun 
rise.  My  father  was  an  old  man.  Before  he  died 
he  told  me  that  he  had  observed  no  difference  in 
the  rising  of  the  sun  since  when  he  was  a  little  boy. 
The  world  is  round.  Confucius  did  not  know  that, 
but  you  will  find  it  in  all  the  geography  books.  The 
world  is  round.  Ever  it  turns  over  on  itself,  over 
and  over  and  around  and  around.  And  the  times 


1 82          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

and  seasons  of  weather  and  life  turn  with  it.  What 
is,  has  been  before.  What  has  been  will  be  again. 
The  time  of  the  breadfruit  and  the  mango  ever  re 
curs,  and  man  and  woman  repeat  themselves.  The 
robins  nest,  and  in  the  springtime  the  plovers  come 
from  the  north.  Every  spring  is  followed  by  an 
other  spring.  The  cocoanut  palm  rises  into  the  air, 
ripens  its  fruit,  and  departs.  But  always  are  there 
more  cocoanut  palms.  This  is  not  all  my  own 
smart  talk.  Much  of  it  my  father  told  me.  Pro 
ceed,  honorable  Mrs.  Tai  Fu,  and  beat  your  son  who 
is  my  Third  Husband  To  Be.  But  I  shall  laugh. 
I  warn  you  I  shall  laugh." 

Ah  Kim  dropped  down  on  his  knees  so  as  to  give 
his  mother  every  advantage.  And  while  she  rained 
blows  upon  him  with  the  bamboo  stick,  Li  Faa 
smiled  and  giggled,  and  finally  burst  into  laughter. 

"Harder!  O  honorable  Mrs.  Tai  Fu !  "  Li  Faa 
urged  between  paroxysms  of  mirth. 

Mrs.  Tai  Fu  did  her  best,  which  was  notably 
weak,  until  she  observed  what  made  her  drop  the 
stick  by  her  side  in  amazement.  Ah  Kim  was  cry 
ing.  Down  both  cheeks  great  round  tears  were 
coursing.  Li  Faa  was  amazed.  So  were  the  gap 
ing  clerks.  Most  amazed  of  all  was  Ah  Kim,  yet 
he  could  not  help  himself;  and,  although  no  fur 
ther  blows  fell,  he  cried  steadily  on. 

"  But  why  did  you  cry?  "  Li  Faa  demanded  often 


THE  TEARS  OF  AH  KIM  183 

of  Ah  Kim.      "  It  was  so  perfectly  foolish  a  thing 
to  do.     She  was  not  even  hurting  you." 

"  Wait  until  we  are  married,"  was  Ah  Kim's  in 
variable  reply,  "  and  then,  O  Moon  Lily,  will  I  tell 
you." 

Two  years  later,  one  afternoon,  more  like  a  water 
melon  seed  in  configuration  than  ever,  Ah  Kim  re 
turned  home  from  a  meeting  of  the  Chinese  Pro 
tective  Association  to  find  his  mother  dead  on  her 
couch.  Narrower  and  more  unrelenting  than  ever 
were  the  forehead  and  the  brushed-back  hair.  But 
on  her  face  was  a  withered  smile.  The  gods  had 
been  kind.  She  had  passed  without  pain. 

He  telephoned  first  of  all  to  Li  Faa's  number, 
but  did  not  find  her  until  he  called  up  Mrs.  Chang 
Lucy.  The  news  given,  the  marriage  was  dated 
ahead  with  ten  times  the  brevity  of  the  old-line 
Chinese  custom.  And  if  there  be  anything  analo 
gous  to  a  bridesmaid  in  a  Chinese  wedding,  Mrs. 
Chang  Lucy  was  just  that. 

"  Why,"  Li  Faa  asked  Ah  Kim  when  alone  with 
him  on  their  wedding  night,  "  why  did  you  cry 
when  your  mother  beat  you  that  day  in  the  store? 
You  were  so  foolish.  She  was  not  even  hurting 
you." 

'  That  is  why  I  cried,"  answered  Ah  Kim. 

Li  Faa  looked  at  him  without  understanding. 
'  I    cried,"    he   explained,    "  because   I    suddenly 


1 84  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

knew  that  my  mother  was  nearing  her  end.  There 
was  no  weight,  no  hurt,  in  her  blows.  I  cried  be 
cause  I  knew  she  no  longer  had  strength  enough  to 
hurt  me.  That  is  why  I  cried,  my  Flower  of  Seren 
ity,  my  Perfect  Rest.  That  is  the  only  reason  why 
I  cried." 

Waikiki,  Honolulu, 
June  1 6,  1916. 


THE    KANAKA  SURF 

THE  tourist  women,  under  the  hau-tree  arbor 
that  lines  the  Moana  Hotel  beach,  gasped 
when  Lee  Barton  and  his  wife  Ida  emerged  from 
the  bathhouse.  And  as  the  pair  walked  past  them 
and  down  to  the  sand,  they  continued  to  gasp.  Not 
that  there  was  anything  about  Lee  Barton  provoca 
tive  of  gasps.  The  tourist  women  were  not  of  the 
sort  to  gasp  at  sight  of  a  mere  man's  swimming- 
suited  body,  no  matter  with  what  swelling  splendor 
of  line  and  muscle  such  body  was  invested.  Never 
theless,  trainers  and  conditioners  of  men  would  have 
drawn  deep  breaths  of  satisfaction  at  contemplation 
of  the  physical  spectacle  of  him.  But  they  would 
not  have  gasped  in  the  way  the  women  did,  whose 
gasps  were  indicative  of  moral  shock. 

Ida  Barton  was  the  cause  of  their  perturbation 
and  disapproval.  They  disapproved,  seriously  so, 
at  the  first  instant's  glimpse  of  her.  They  thought 
-such  ardent  self-deceivers  were  they  —  that  they 
were  shocked  by  her  swimming  suit.  But  Freud  has 
pointed  out  how  persons,  where  sex  is  involved,  are 
prone  sincerely  to  substitute  one  thing  for  another 
thing,  and  to  agonize  over  the  substituted  thing  as 
strenuously  as  if  it  were  the  real  thing. 

Ida  Barton's  swimming  suit  was  a  very  nice  one, 

185 


1 86  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

as  women's  suits  go.  Of  thinnest-  of  firm-woven 
black  wool,  with  white  trimmings  and  a  white  belt 
line,  it  was  high-throated,  short-sleeved,  and  brief- 
skirted.  Brief  as  was  the  skirt,  the  leg  tights  were 
no  less  brief.  Yet  on  the  beach  in  front  of  the  ad 
jacent  Outrigger  Club,  and  entering  and  leaving 
the  water,  a  score  of  women,  not  provoking  gasping 
notice,  were  more  daringly  garbed.  Their  men's 
suits,  as  brief  of  leg  tights  and  skirts,  fitted  them  as 
snugly,  but  were  sleeveless  after  the  way  of  men's 
suits,  the  armholes  deeply  low  cut  and  in  cut,  and,  by 
the  exposed  armpits,  advertiseful  that  the  wearers 
were  accustomed  to  1916  decollete. 

So  it  was  not  Ida  Barton's  suit,  although  the 
women  deceived  themselves  into  thinking  it  was. 
It  was,  first  of  all,  say,  her  legs;  or,  first  of  all,  say, 
the  totality  of  her,  the  sweet  and  brilliant  jewel  of 
her  femininity  bursting  upon  them.  Dowager,  ma 
tron,  and  maid,  conserving  their  soft-fat  muscles 
or  protecting  their  hothouse  complexions  in  the 
shade  of  the  hau-tree  arbor,  felt  the  immediate  chal 
lenge  of  her.  She  was  menace  as  well,  an  affront  of 
superiority  in  their  own  chosen  and  variously  suc 
cessful  game  of  life. 

But  they  did  not  say  it.  They  did  not  permit 
themselves  to  think  it.  They  thought  it  was  the 
suit,  and  said  so  to  one  another,  ignoring  the  twenty 
women  more  daringly  clad  but  less  perilously  beauti 
ful.  Could  one  have  winnowed  out  of  the  souls 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  187 

of  these  disapproving  ones  what  lay  at  bottom  of 
their  condemnation  of  her  suit,  it  would  have  been 
found  to  be  the  sex-jealous  thought:  that  no  woman, 
so  beautiful  as  this  one,  should  be  permitted  to  show 
her  beauty.  It  was  not  fair  to  them.  What  chance 
had  they  in  the  conquering  of  males  with  so  dan 
gerous  a  rival  in  the  foreground? 

They  were  justified.  As  Stanley  Patterson  said 
to  his  wife,  where  the  two  of  them  lolled  wet  in  the 
sand  by  the  tiny  fresh-water  stream  that  the  Bar 
tons  waded  in  order  to  gain  the  Outrigger  Club 
beach: 

"  Lord  god  of  models  and  marvels,  behold  them! 
My  dear,  did  you  ever  see  two  such  legs  on  one 
small  woman  ?  Look  at  the  roundness  and  tapering- 
ness.  They're  boy's  legs.  I've  seen  featherweights 
go  into  the  ring  with  legs  like  those.  And  they're 
all  woman's  legs,  too.  Never  mistake  them  in  the 
world.  The  arc  of  the  front  line  of  that  upper 
leg!  And  the  balanced  adequate  fullness  at  the 
back!  And  the  way  the  opposing  curves  slender  in 
to  the  knee  that  is  a  knee  !  Makes  my  fingers  itch. 
Wish  I  had  some  clay  right  now." 

'  It's  a  true  human  knee,"  his  wife  concurred,  no 
less  breathlessly;  for,  like  her  husband,  she  was  a 
sculptor.  u  Look  at  the  joint  of  it  working  under 
the  skin.  It's  got  form,  and  blessedly  is  not  covered 
by  a  bag  of  fat."  She  paused  to  sigh,  thinking  of 
her  own  knees.  "  It's  correct  and  beautiful  and 


i  88  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

dainty.      Charm!      If  ever  I  beheld  the  charm  of 
flesh  it  is  now.     I  wonder  who  she  is." 

Stanley  Patterson,  gazing  ardently,  took  up  his 
half  of  the  chorus. 

"  Notice  that  the  round  muscle  pads  on  the  inner 
sides  which  make  most  women  appear  knock-kneed 
are  missing?  They're  boy's  legs,  firm  and  sure  — " 

"  And  sweet  woman's  legs,  soft  and  round,"  his 
wife  hastened  to  balance.  "And  look,  Stanley! 
See  how  she  walks  on  the  balls  of  her  feet.  It 
makes  her  seem  light  as  swan's-down.  Each  step 
seems  just  a  little  above  the  earth,  and  each  other 
step  seems  just  a  little  higher  above  until  you  get 
the  impression  she  is  flying,  or  just  about  to  rise 
and  begin  flying  .  .  ." 

So  Stanley  and  Mrs.  Patterson.  But  they  were 
artists,  with  eyes  therefore  unlike  the  next  batteries 
of  human  eyes  Ida  Barton  was  compelled  to  run, 
and  that  laired  on  the  Outrigger  lanais  (verandas) 
and  in  the  hau-tree  shade  of  the  closely  adjoining 
Seaside.  The  majority  of  the  Outrigger  audience 
was  composed,  not  of  tourist  guests,'  but  of  club 
members  and  old-timers  in  Hawaii.  And  even  the 
old-times  woman  gasped. 

"  It's  positively  indecent,"  said  Mrs.  Hanley 
Black  to  her  husband,  herself  a  too-stout-in-the-mid- 
dle  matron  of  forty-five,  who  had  been  born  in  the 
Hawaiian  Islands  and  who  had  never  heard  of 
Ostend. 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  189 

Hanley  Black  surveyed  his  wife's  criminal  shape- 
lessness  and  voluminousness  of  ante-diluvian,  New 
England  swimming  dress  with  a  withering,  contem 
plative  eye.  They  had  been  married  a  sufficient 
number  of  years  for  him  frankly  to  utter  his  judg 
ment: 

'  That  strange  woman's  suit  makes  your  own  look 
indecent.  You  appear  as  a  creature  shameful,  under 
a  grotesqueness  of  apparel  striving  to  hide  some  se 
cret  awfulness." 

"  She  carries  her  body  like  a  Spanish  dancer," 
Mrs.  Patterson  said  to  her  husband,  for  the  pair 
of  them  had  waded  the  little  stream  in  pursuit  of 
the  vision. 

;'  By  George,  she  does,"  Stanley  Patterson  con 
curred.  ;  Reminds  me  of  Estrellita.  Torso  just 
well  enough  forward,  slender  waist,  not  too  lean  in 
the  stomach,  and  writh  muscles  like  some  lad  boxer's 
armoring  that  stomach  to  fearlessness.  She  has  to 
have  them  to  carry  herself  that  way  and  to  balance 
the  back  muscles.  See  that  muscled  curve  of  the 
back!  It's  Estrellita's." 

"  How  tall  would  you  say?  "  his  wife  queried. 

'  There  she  deceives,"  was  the  appraised  answer. 
"  She  might  be  five  feet  one,  or  five  feet  three  or 
four.  It's  that  way  she  has  of  walking  that  you 
described  as  almost  about  to  fly." 

"  Yes,     that's     it,"     Mrs.     Patterson    concurred. 


190          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

"  It's  her  energy,  her  seemingness  of  being  on  tiptoe 
with  rising  vitality." 

Stanley  Patterson  considered  for  a  space. 

"  That's  it,"  he  enounced.  "  She  is  a  little  thing. 
I'll  give  her  five  two  in  her  stockings.  And  I'll 
weigh  her  a  mere  one  hundred  and  ten,  or  eight, 
or  fifteen  at  the  outside." 

"  She  won't  weigh  a  hundred  and  ten,"  his  wife 
declared  with  conviction. 

"  And  with  her  clothes  on,  plus  her  carriage 
(which  is  builded  of  her  vitality  and  will),  I'll 
wager  she'd  never  impress  any  one  with  her  small- 


ness." 


"  I  know  her  type,"  his  wife  nodded.  '  You 
meet  her  out  and  you  have  the  sense  that,  while  not 
exactly  a  fine,  large  woman,  she's  a  whole  lot  larger 
than  the  average.  And  now,  age?  " 

"  I'll  give  you  best,  there,"  he  parried. 

"  She  might  be  twenty-five,  she  might  be  thirty- 
eight  .  .  ." 

But  Stanley  Patterson  had  impolitely  forgotten  to 
listen. 

"  It's  not  her  legs  alone,"  he  cried  on  enthusias 
tically.  "  It's  the  all  of  her.  Look  at  the  delicacy 
of  that  forearm.  And  the  swell  of  line  to  the  shoul 
der.  And  that  biceps !  It's  alive.  Dollars  to 
drowned  kittens  she  can  flex  a  respectable  knot  of 
it. 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  191 

No  woman,  much  less  an  Ida  Barton,  could  have 
been  unconscious  of  the  effect  she  was  producing 
along  Waikiki  Beach.  Instead  of  making  her  happy 
in  the  small  vanity  way,  it  irritated  her. 

*  The  cats,"  she  laughed  to  her  husband.  "  And 
to  think  I  was  born  here  an  almost  even  third  of  a 
century  ago  !  But  they  weren't  nasty  then.  Maybe 
because  there  weren't  any  tourists.  Why,  Lee,  I 
learned  to  swim  right  here  on  this  beach  in  front  of 
the  Outrigger.  We  used  to  come  out  with  daddy 
for  vacations  and  for  week-ends  and  sort  of  camp 
out  in  a  grass  house  that  stood  right  where  the 
Outrigger  ladies  serve  tea  now.  And  centipedes  fell 
out  of  the  thatch  on  us  while  we  slept,  and  we  all  ate 
poi  and  opihis  and  raw  aku,  and  nobody  wore  much 
of  anything  for  the  swimming  and  squidding,  and 
there  was  no  real  road  to  town.  I  remember  times 
of  big  rain  when  it  was  so  flooded  we  had  to  go  in 
by  canoe,  out  through  the  reef  and  in  by  Honolulu 
harbor." 

"  Remember,"  Lee  Barton  added,  "  it  was  just 
about  that  time  that  the  youngster  that  became  me 
arrived  here  for  a  few  weeks'  stay  on  our  way 
around.  I  must  have  seen  you  on  the  beach  at  that 
very  time  —  one  of  the  kiddies  that  swam  like  fishes. 
Why,  merciful  me,  the  women  here  were  all  riding 
cross  saddle,  and  that  was  long  before  the  rest  of 
the  social  female  world  outgrew  its  immodesty  and 
came  around  to  sitting  simultaneously  on  both  sides 


192  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

of  a  horse.  I  learned  to  swim  on  the  beach  here  at 
that  time  myself.  You  and  I  may  even  have  tried 
body  surfing  on  the  same  waves,  or  I  may  have 
splashed  a  handful  of  water  into  your  mouth  and 
been  rewarded  by  your  sticking  out  your  tongue  at 
me—" 

Interrupted  by  an  audible  gasp  of  shock  from  a 
spinster-appearing  female  sunning  herself  hard  by 
and  angularly  in  the  sand  in  a  swimming  suit  mon 
strously  unbeautiful,  Lee  Barton  was  aware  of  an 
involuntary  and  almost  perceptible  stiffening  on  the 
part  of  his  wife. 

"  I  smile  with  pleasure,"  he  told  her.  "  It  serves 
only  to  make  your  valiant  little  shoulders  the  more 
valiant.  It  may  make  you  self-conscious,  but  it 
likewise  makes  you  absurdly  self-confident." 

For,  be  it  known  in  advance,  Lee  Barton  was  a 
superman  and  Ida  Barton  a  superwoman  —  or  at 
least  they  were  personalities  so  designated  by  the 
cub  book  reviewers,  flat-floor  men  and  women,  and 
scholastically  emasculated  critics,  who,  from  across 
the  dreary  levels  of  their  living,  can  descry  no  glor 
ious  humans  overtopping  their  horizons.  These 
dreary  folk,  echoes  of  the  dead  past  and  importunate 
and  self-elected  pallbearers  for  the  present  and  fu 
ture,  proxy  livers  of  life  and  vicarious  sensualists 
that  they  are  in  a  eunuch  sort  of  way,  insist,  since 
their  own  selves,  environments,  and  narrow  agita 
tions  of  the  quick  are  mediocre  and  commonplace, 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  193 

that  no  man  or  woman  can  rise  above  the  mediocre 
and  commonplace. 

Lacking  gloriousness  in  themselves,  they  deny 
gloriousness  to  all  mankind;  too  cowardly  for 
whimsy  and  derring  do,  they  assert  whimsy  and  der- 
ring  do  ceased  at  the  very  latest  no  later  than  the 
Middle  Ages;  flickering  little  tapers  themselves, 
their  feeble  eyes  are  dazzled  to  unseeingness  of  the 
flaming  conflagrations  of  other  souls  that  illumine 
their  skies.  Possessing  power  in  no  greater  quantity 
than  is  the  just  due  of  pygmies,  they  cannot  conceive 
of  power  greater  in  others  than  in  themselves.  In 
those  days  there  were  giants;  but,  as  their  moldy 
books  tell  them,  the  giants  are  long  since  passed 
and  only  the  bones  of  them  remain.  Never  having 
seen  the  mountains,  there  are  no  mountains. 

In  the  mud  of  their  complacently  perpetuated 
barnyard  pond,  they  assert  that  no  bright-browed, 
bright-appareled,  shining  figures  can  be  outside  of 
fairy  books,  old  histories,  and  ancient  superstitions. 
Never  having  seen  the  stars,  they  deny  the  stars. 
Never  having  glimpsed  the  shining  ways  nor  the 
mortals  that  tread  them,  they  deny  the  existence  of 
the  shining  ways  as  well  as  the  existence  of  the 
high-bright  mortals  who  adventure  along  the  shin 
ing  ways.  The  narrow  pupils  of  their  eyes  the  cen 
ter  of  the  universe,  they  image  the  universe  in  terms 
of  themselves,  of  their  meager  personalities  make 
pitiful  yardsticks  with  which  to  measure  the  high- 


194          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

bright  souls,  saying:  "  Thus  long  are  all  souls,  and 
no  longer;  it  is  impossible  that  there  should  exist 
greater-statured  souls  than  we  are,  and  our  gods 
know  that  we  are  great  of  stature." 

But  all,  or  nearly  all  on  the  beach,  forgave  Ida 
Barton  her  suit  and  form  when  she  took  the  wa 
ter.  A  touch  of  her  hand  on  her  husband's  arm, 
indication  and  challenge  in  her  laughing  face,  and 
the  two  ran  as  one  for  half  a  dozen  paces  and 
leaped  as  one  from  the  hardwet  sand  of  the  beach, 
their  bodies  describing  flat  arches  of  flight  ere  the 
water  was  entered. 

There  are  two  surfs  at  Waikiki :  the  big,  bearded- 
man  surf  that  roars  far  out  beyond  the  diving  stage; 
the  smaller,  gentler,  wahine,  or  woman,  surf  that 
breaks  upon  the  shore  itself.  Here  is  a  great  shal- 
lowness,  where  one  may  wade  a  hundred  or  several 
hundred  feet  to  get  beyond  depth.  Yet,  with  a 
good  surf  on  outside,  the  wahine  surf  can  break 
three  or  four  feet,  so  that,  close  in  against  the  shore, 
the  hard-sand  bottom  may  be  three  feet  or  three 
inches  under  the  welter  of  surface  foam.  To  dive 
from  the  beach  into  this,  to  fly  into  the  air  off  rac 
ing  feet,  turn  in  mid-flight  so  that  heels  are  up 
and  head  is  down,  and  so  to  enter  the  water  head 
first,  requires  wisdom  of  waves,  timing  of  waves, 
and  a  trained  deftness  in  entering  such  unstable 
depths  of  water  with  pretty,  unapprehensive,  head- 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  195 

first  cleavage  while  at  the  same  time  making  the  shal 
lowest  possible  of  dives. 

It  is  a  sweet  and  pretty  and  daring  trick,  not 
learned  in  a  day  nor  learned  at  all  without  many  a 
mild  bump  on  the  bottom  or  close  shave  of  frac 
tured  skull  or  broken  neck.  Here,  on  the  spot 
where  the  Bartons  so  beautifully  dived,  two  days 
earlier  a  Stanford  track  athlete  had  broken  his  neck. 
His  had  been  an  error  in  timing  the  rise  and  sub 
sidence  of  a  wahine  wave. 

"  A  professional,"  Mrs.  Hanley  Black  sneered  to 
her  husband  at  Ida  Barton's  feat. 

"  Some  vaudeville  tank  girl,"  was  one  of  the  sim 
ilar  remarks  with  which  the  women  in  the  shade 
complacently  reassured  one  another;  finding,  by  way 
of  the  weird  mental  processes  of  self-illusion,  a  great 
satisfaction  in  the  money  caste  distinction  between 
one  who  worked  for  what  she  ate  and  themselves 
who  did  not  work  for  what  they  ate. 

It  was  a  day  of  heavy  surf  on  Waikiki.  In  the 
wahine  surf  it  was  boisterous  enough  for  good  swim 
mers.  But  out  beyond,  in  the  Kanaka,  or  man,  surf, 
no  one  ventured.  Not  that  the  score  or  more  of 
young  surf  riders  loafing  on  the  beach  could  not  ven 
ture  there,  or  were  afraid  to  venture  there;  but  be 
cause  their  biggest  outrigger  canoes  would  have 
been  swamped,  and  their  surf  boards  would  have 
been  overwhelmed  in  the  too-immense  overtopple 
and  downfall  of  the  thundering  monsters.  They 


196  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

themselves,  most  of  them,  could  have  swum,  for  man 
can  swim  through  breakers  which  canoes  and  surf 
boards  cannot  surmount;  but  to  ride  the  backs  of  the 
waves,  rise  out  of  the  foam  to  stand  full  length  in 
the  air  above  and  with  heels  winged  with  the  swift 
ness  of  horses  to  fly  shoreward,  was  what  made  sport 
for  them  and  brought  them  out  from  Honolulu  to 
Waikiki. 

The  captain  of  Number  Nine  canoe,  himself  a 
charter  member  of  the  Outrigger  and  a  many-times 
medalist  in  long-distance  swimming,  had  missed  see 
ing  the  Bartons  take  the  water  and  first  glimpsed 
them  beyond  the  last  festoon  of  bathers  who  clung  to 
the  life  lines.  From  then  on,  from  his  vantage  of 
the  upstairs  lanai,  he  kept  his  eyes  on  them.  When 
they  continued  out  past  the  steel  diving  stage  where 
a  few  of  the  hardiest  divers  disported,  he  muttered 
vexedly  under  his  breath,  "  damned  malahinis!" 

Now  malahini  means  newcomer,  tenderfoot;  and, 
despite  the  prettiness  of  their  stroke,  he  knew  that 
none  except  malahinis  would  venture  into  the  rac 
ing  channel  beyond  the  diving  stage.  Hence,  the 
vexation  of  the  captain  of  Number  Nine.  He  de 
scended  to  the  beach,  with  a  low  word  here  and 
there  picked  a  crew  of  the  strongest  surfers,  and  re 
turned  to  the  lanai  with  a  pair  of  binoculars.  Quite 
casually,  the  crew,  six  of  them,  carried  Number  Nine 
to  the  water's  edge,  saw  paddles  and  everything  in 
order  for  a  quick  launching,  and  lolled  about  care- 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  197 

lessly  on  the  sand.  They  were  guilty  of  not  adver 
tising  that  anything  untoward  was  afoot,  although 
they  did  steal  glances  up  to  their  captain  straining 
through  the  binoculars. 

What  made  the  channel  was  the  fresh-water 
stream.  Coral  cannot  abide  fresh  water.  What 
made  the  channel  race  was  the  immense  shoreward 
surf-fling  of  the  sea.  Unable  to  remain  flung  up  on 
the  beach,  pounded  ever  back  toward  the  beach  by 
the  perpetual  shoreward  rush  of  the  Kanaka  surf, 
the  up-piled  water  escaped  to  the  sea  by  way  of 
the  channel  and  in  the  form  of  undertow  along  the 
bottom  under  the  breakers.  Even  in  the  channel 
the  waves  broke  big,  but  not  with  the  magnificent 
bigness  of  terror  as  to  right  and  left.  So  it  was 
that  a  canoe  or  a  comparatively  strong  swimmer 
could  dare  the  channel.  But  the  swimmer  must  be 
a  strong  swimmer  indeed  who  could  successfully  buck 
the  current  in.  Wherefore  the  captain  of  Number 
Nine  continued  his  vigil  and  his  muttered  damnation 
of  malahinis,  disgustedly  sure  that  these  two  mala- 
hinis  would  compel  him  to  launch  Number  Nine 
and  go  after  them  when  they  found  the  current  too 
strong  to  swim  in  against.  As  for  himself,  caught 
in  their  predicament,  he  would  have  veered  to  the 
left  toward  Diamond  Head  and  come  in  on  the  shore 
ward  fling  of  the  Kanaka  surf.  But  then,  he  was  no 
one  other  than  himself,  a  bronze  Hercules  of  twenty- 
two,  the  whitest  blood  man  ever  burned  to  mahogany- 


198  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

brown  by  a  subtropic  sun,  with  body  and  lines  and 
muscles  very  much  resembling  the  wonderful  ones 
of  Duke  Kahanamoku.  In  a  hundred  yards  the 
world  champion  could  invariably  beat  him  a  second 
flat;  but  over  a  distance  of  miles  he  could  swim 
circles  around  the  champion. 

No  one  of  the  many  hundreds  on  the  beach,  with 
the  exception  of  the  captain  and  his  crew,  knew  that 
the  Bartons  had  passed  beyond  the  diving  stage.  All 
who  had  watched  them  start  to  swim  out  had  taken 
for  granted  that  they  had  joined  the  others  on  the 
stage. 

The  captain  suddenly  sprang  upon  the  railing  of 
the  lanai,  held  on  to  a  pillar  with  one  hand,  and 
again  picked  up  the  two  specks  of  heads  through  the 
glasses.  His  surmise  was  verified.  The  two  fools 
had  veered  out  of  the  channel  toward  Diamond 
Head  and  were  directly  seaward  of  the  Kanaka  surf. 
Worse,  as  he  looked,  they  were  starting  to  come  in 
through  the  Kanaka  surf. 

He  glanced  down  quickly  to  the  canoe,  and  even 
as  he  glanced,  and  as  the  apparently  loafing  mem 
bers  quietly  arose  and  took  their  places  by  the  canoe 
for  the  launching,  he  achieved  judgment.  Before 
the  canoe  could  get  abreast  in  the  channel,  all  would 
be  over  with  the  man  and  woman.  And,  granted 
that  it  could  get  abreast  of  them,  the  moment  it  ven 
tured  into  the  Kanaka  surf  it  would  be  swamped,  and 
a  sorry  chance  would  the  strongest  swimmer  of  them 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  199 

have  of  rescuing  a  person  pounding  to  pulp  on  the 
bottom  under  the  smashes  of  the  great  bearded  ones. 

The  captain  saw  the  first  Kanaka  wave,  large  of 
itself  but  small  among  its  fellows,  lift  seaward  be 
hind  the  two  speck  swimmers.  Then  he  saw  them 
strike  a  crawl  stroke,  side  by  side,  faces  downward, 
full  lengths  outstretched  on  surface,  their  feet  scull 
ing  like  propellers  and  their  arms  flailing  in  rapid 
overhand  strokes  as  they  spurted  speed  to  approxi 
mate  the  speed  of  the  overtaking  wave,  so  that,  when 
overtaken,  they  would  become  part  of  the  wave  and 
travel  with  it  instead  of  being  left  behind  it.  Thus, 
if  they  were  coolly  skilled  enough  to  ride  outstretched 
on  the  surface  and  the  forward  face  of  the  crest 
instead  of  being  flung  and  crumpled  or  driven  head 
first  to  bottom,  they  would  dash  shoreward,  not 
propelled  by  their  own  energy  but  by  the  energy  of 
the  wave  into  which  they  had  become  incorporated. 

And  they  did  it!  "  Some  swimmers,"  the  captain 
of  Number  Nine  made  announcement  to  himself 
under  his  breath.  He  continued  to  gaze  eagerly. 
The  best  of  swimmers  could  hold  such  a  wave  for 
several  hundred  feet.  But  could  they  ?  If  they  did, 
they  would  be  a  third  of  the  way  through  the  perils 
they  had  challenged.  But,  not  unexpected  by  him, 
the  woman  failed  first,  her  body  not  presenting  the 
larger  surfaces  that  her  husband's  did.  At  the  end 
of  seventy  feet  she  was  overwhelmed,  being  driven 
downward  and  out  of  sight  by  the  tons  of  water  in 


200          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

the  overtopple.  Her  husband  followed,  and  both 
appeared  swimming  beyond  the  wave  they  had  lost. 

The  captain  saw  the  next  wave  first.  "  If  they 
try  to  body-surf  on  that,  good  night,"  he  muttered; 
for  he  knew  the  swimmer  did  not  live  who  would 
tackle  it.  Beardless  itself,  it  was  father  of  all 
bearded  ones,  a  mile  long,  rising  up  far  out  beyond 
where  the  others  rose,  towering  its  solid  bulk  higher 
and  higher  till  it  blotted  out  the  horizon  and  was  a 
giant  among  its  fellows  ere  its  beard  began  to  grow 
as  it  thinned  its  crest  to  the  overcurl. 

But  it  was  evident  that  the  man  and  woman  knew 
big  water.  No  racing  stroke  did  they  make  in  ad 
vance  of  the  wave.  The  captain  inwardly  applauded 
as  he  saw  them  turn  and  face  the  wave  and  wait  for 
it.  It  was  a  picture  that  of  all  on  the  beach  he 
alone  saw,  wonderfully  distinct  and  vivid  in  the  mag 
nification  of  the  binoculars.  The  wall  of  the  wave 
was  truly  a  wall,  mounting,  ever  mounting,  and  thin 
ning,  far  up,  to  a  transparency  of  the  colors  of  the 
setting  sun  shooting  athwart  all  the  green  and  blue 
of  it.  The  green  thinned  to  lighter  green  that 
merged  blue  even  as  he  looked.  But  it  was  a  blue 
gem  brilliant  with  innumerable  sparkle  points  of 
rose  and  gold  flashed  through  it  by  the  sun.  On 
and  up,  to  the  sprouting  beard  of  growing  crest,  the 
color  orgy  increased  until  it  was  a  kaleidoscopic  ef 
fervescence  of  transfusing  rainbows. 

Against  the  face  of  the  wave  showed  the  heads 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  201 

of  the  man  and  woman  like  two  sheer  specks. 
Specks  they  were,  of  the  quick,  adventuring  among 
the  blind  elemental  forces,  daring  the  Titanic  buffets 
of  the  sea.  The  weight  of  the  downfall  of  that 
father  of  waves,  even  then  imminent  above  their 
heads,  could  stun  a  man  or  break  the  fragile  bones 
of  a  woman.  The  captain  of  Number  Nine  was 
unconscious  that  he  was  holding  his  breath.  He 
was  oblivious  of  the  man.  It  was  the  woman.  Did 
she  lose  her  head  or  courage,  or  misplay  her  mus 
cular  part  for  a  moment,  she  could  be  hurled  a 
hundred  feet -by  that  giant  buffet  and  left  wrenched, 
helpless,  and  breathless  to  be  pulped  on  the  coral 
bottom  and  sucked  out  by  the  undertow  to  be  bat 
tened  on  by  the  fish  sharks  too  cowardly  to  take  their 
human  meat  alive. 

Why  didn't  they  dive  deep,  and  with  plenty  of 
time,  the  captain  wanted  to  know,  instead  of  waiting 
till  the  last  tick  of  safety  and  the  first  tick  of  peril 
were  one?  He  saw  the  woman  turn  her  head  and 
laugh  to  the  man,  and  his  head  turn  in  response. 
Above  them,  overhanging  them,  as  they  mounted  the 
body  of  the  wave,  the  beard,  creaming  white,  then 
frothing  into  rose  and  gold,  tossed  upward  into  a 
spray  of  jewels.  The  crisp  offshore  trade  wind 
caught  the  beard's  fringes  and  blew  them  backward 
and  upward  yards  and  yards  into  the  air.  It  was 
then,  side  by  side,  and  six  feet  apart,  that  they  dived 
straight  under  the  overcurl  even  then  disintegrating 


202  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

to  chaos  and  falling.  Like  insects  disappearing  into 
the  convolutions  of  some  gorgeous,  gigantic  orchid, 
so  they  disappeared,  as  beard  and  crest  and  spray 
and  jewels,  in  many  tons,  crashed  and  thundered 
down  just  where  they  had  disappeared  the  moment 
before  but  where  they  were  no  longer. 

Beyond  the  wave  they  had  gone  through  they 
finally  showed,  side  by  side,  still  six  feet  apart,  swim 
ming  shoreward  with  a  steady  stroke  until  the  next 
wave  should  make  them  body-surf  it  or  face  and 
pierce  it.  The  captain  of  Number  Nine  waved  his 
hand  to  his  crew  in  dismissal  and  sat  down  on  the 
lanai  railing,  feeling  vaguely  tired,  and  still  watch 
ing  the  swimmers  through  his  glasses. 

"  Whoever  and  whatever  they  are,"  he  murmured, 
"  they  aren't  malahinis.  They  simply  can't  be  mala- 
hinis." 

Not  all  days,  and  only  on  rare  days,  is  the  surf 
heavy  at  Waikiki;  and,  in  the  days  that  followed, 
Ida  and  Lee  Barton,  much  in  evidence  on  the  beach 
and  in  the  water,  continued  to  arouse  disparaging 
interest  in  the  breasts  of  the  tourist  ladies,  although 
the  Outrigger  captains  ceased  from  worrying  about 
them  in  the  water.  They  would  watch  the  pair 
swim  out  and  disappear  in  the  blue  distance,  and 
they  might,  or  might  not,  chance  to  see  them  return 
hours  afterward.  The  point  was  that  the  captains 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  203 

did  not  bother  about  their  returning  because  they 
knew  they  would  return. 

The  reason  for  this  was  that  they  were  not  mala- 
hinis.  They  belonged.  In  other  words,  or,  rather, 
in  the  potent  Islands  word,  they  were  kamaaina. 
Kamaaina  men  and  women  of  forty  remembered 
Lee  Barton  from  their  childhood  days,  when,  in 
truth,  he  had  been  a  malahini,  though  a  very  young 
specimen.  Since  that  time,  in  the  course  of  various 
long  stays,  he  had  earned  the  kamaaina  distinction. 

As  for  Ida  Barton,  young  matrons  of  her  own 
age  (privily  wondering  how  she  managed  to  keep 
her  figure),  met  her  with  arms  around  and  hearty 
Hawaiian  kisses.  Grandmothers  must  have  her  to 
tea  and  reminiscence  in  old  gardens  of  forgotten 
houses  which  the  tourist  never  sees.  Less  than  a 
week  after  her  arrival,  the  aged  Queen  Liliuokalani 
must  send  for  her  and  chide  her  for  neglect.  And 
old  men,  on  cool  and  balmy  lay  mis,  toothlessly  maun 
dered  to  her  about  Grandpa  Captain  Wilton,  of  be 
fore  their  time  but  whose  wild  and  lusty  deeds  and 
pranks,  told  them  by  their  fathers,  they  remembered 
with  gusto  —  Grandpa  Captain  Wilton,  or  David 
Wilton,  or  "  All  Hands,"  as  the  Hawaiians  of  that 
remote  day  had  affectionately  renamed  him  —  All 
Hands,  ex-Northwest  trader,  the  godless,  beach 
combing,  clipper-shipless,  and  shipwrecked  skipper 
who  had  stood  on  the  beach  at  Kailua  and  welcomed 


204          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

the  very  first  of  the  missionaries,  off  the  brig  Thad- 
deus,  in  the  year  1820,  and  who,  not  many  years 
later,  made  a  scandalous  runaway  marriage  with 
one  of  their  daughters,  quieted  down  and  served 
the  Kamehamehas  long  and  conservatively  as  Minis 
ter  of  the  Treasury  and  Chief  of  the  Customs,  and 
acted  as  intercessor  and  mediator  between  the  mis 
sionaries  on  one  side  and  the  beach-combing  crowd, 
the  trading  crowd,  and  the  Hawaiian  chiefs  on  the 
variously  shifting  other  side. 

Nor  was  Lee  Barton  neglected.  In  the  midst  of 
the  dinners  and  lunches,  the  luaus  and  poi  suppers, 
and  swims  and  dances  in  aloha  to  both  of  them,  his 
time  and  inclination  were  claimed  by  the  crowd  of 
lively  youngsters  of  old  Kohala  days  who  had  come 
to  know  that  they  possessed  digestions  and  various 
other  internal  functions  and  who  had  settled  down 
to  somewhat  of  sedateness,  who  roistered  less,  and 
who  played  bridge  much  and  went  to  baseball  often. 
Also,  similarly  oriented,  was  the  old  poker  crowd  of 
Lee  Barton's  younger  days,  which  crowd  played  for 
more  consistent  stakes  and  limits,  while  it  drank 
mineral  water  and  orange  juice  and  timed  the  final 
round  of  "  Jacks  "  never  later  than  midnight. 

Appeared,  through  all  the  rout  of  entertainment, 
Sonny  Grandison,  Hawaiian-born,  Hawaiian-promi 
nent,  who,  despite  his  youthful  forty-one  years,  had 
declined  the  proffered  governorship  of  the  Territory. 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  205 

Also,  he  had  ducked  Ida  Barton  in  the  surf  at 
Waikiki  a  quarter  of  a  century  before,  and,  still 
earlier,  vacationing  on  his  father's  great  Lakanaii 
cattle  ranch,  had  hair-raisingly  initiated  her,  and  va 
rious  other  tender  tots  of  from  five  to  seven  years 
of  age,  into  his  boys'  band,  "  The  Cannibal  Head- 
Hunters  "  or  "The  Terrors  of  Lakanaii."  Still 
further,  his  Grandpa  Grandison  and  her  Grandpa 
Wilton  had  been  business  and  political  comrades  in 
the  old  days. 

Educated  at  Harvard,  he  had  become  for  a  time 
a  world-wandering  scientist  and  social  favorite. 
After  serving  in  the  Philippines,  he  had  accompanied 
various  expeditions  through  Malaysia,  South  Amer 
ica,  and  Africa  in  the  post  of  official  entomologist. 
At  forty-one  he  still  retained  his  traveling  commis 
sion  from  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  while  his 
friends  insisted  that  he  knew  more  about  sugar 
"  bugs  "  than  the  expert  entomologists  employed  by 
him  and  his  fellow  sugar  planters  in  the  Experiment 
Station.  Bulking  large  at  home,  he  was  the  best- 
known  representative  of  Hawaii  abroad.  It  was 
the  axiom  among  traveled  Hawaiian  folk,  that  wher 
ever  over  the  world  they  might  mention  they  were 
from  Hawaii,  the  invariable  first  question  asked  of 
them  was :  "  And  do  you  know  Sonny  Grandison?  " 

In  brief,  he  was  a  wealthy  man's  son  who  had 
made  good.  His  father's  million  he  inherited  he 


206          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

had  increased  to  ten  millions,  at  the  same  time 
keeping  up  his  father's  benefactions  and  endowments 
and  overshadowing  them  with  his  own. 

But  there  was  still  more  to  him.  A  ten  years' 
widower,  without  issue,  he  was  the  most  eligible  and 
most  pathetically  sought-after  marriageable  man  In 
all  Hawaii.  A  clean-and-strong-featured  brunette, 
tall,  slenderly  graceful,  with  the  lean  runners'  stom 
ach,  always  fit  as  a  fiddle,  a  distinguished  figure  in 
any  group,  the  graying  of  hair  over  his  temples  (in 
juxtaposition  to  his  young-textured  skin  and  bright, 
vital  eyes)  made  him  appear  even  more  dis 
tinguished.  Despite  the  social  demands  upon  his 
time,  and  despite  his  many  committee  meetings  and 
meetings  of  boards  of  directors  and  political  con 
ferences,  he  yet  found  time  and  space  to  captain  the 
Lakanaii  polo  team  to  more  than  occasional  vic 
tory,  and  on  his  own  island  of  Lakanaii  vied  with 
the  Baldwins  of  Maui  in  the  breeding  and  import 
ing  of  polo  ponies. 

Given  a  markedly  strong  and  vital  man  and 
woman,  when  a  second  equally  markedly  strong  and 
vital  man  enters  the  scene,  the  peril  of  a  markedly 
strong  and  vital  triangle  of  tragedy  becomes  immi 
nent.  Indeed,  such  a  triangle  of  tragedy  may  be 
described,  in  the  terminology  of  the  flat-floor  folk, 
as  "  super "  and  "  impossible."  Perhaps,  since 
within  himself  originated  the  desire  and  the  dar- 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  207 

ing,  it  was  Sonny  Grandison  who  first  was  conscious 
of  the  situation,  although  he  had  to  be  quick  to 
anticipate  the  sensing  intuition  of  a  woman  like 
Ida  Barton.  At  any  rate,  and  undebatable,  the  last 
of  the  three  to  attain  awareness  was  Lee  Barton, 
who  promptly  laughed  away  what  was  impossible  to 
laugh  away. 

His  first  awareness,  he  quickly  saw,  was  so  belated 
that  half  his  hosts  and  hostesses  were  already  aware. 
Casting  back,  he  realized  that  for  some  time  any  af 
fair  to  which  he  and  his  wife  were  invited  found 
Sonny  Grandison  likewise  invited.  Wherever  the 
two  had  been,  the  three  had  been.  To  Kahuku  or 
to  Haleiwa,  to  Ahuimanu,  or  to  Kaneohe  for  the 
coral  gardens,  or  to  Koko  Head  for  a  picnicking  and 
a  swimming,  somehow  it  invariably  happened  that 
Ida  rode  in  Sonny's  car  or  that  both  rode  in  some 
body's  car.  Dances,  luaus,  dinners,  and  outings 
were  all  one;  the  three  of  them  wrere  there. 

Having  become  aware,  Lee  Barton  could  not  fail 
to  register  Ida's  note  of  happiness  ever  rising  when 
in  the  same  company  with  Sonny  Grandison,  and 
her  willingness  to  ride  in  the  same  cars  with  him, 
to  dance  with  him,  or  to  sit  out  dances  with  him. 
Most  convincing  of  all,  was  Sonny  Grandison  him 
self.  Forty-one,  strong,  experienced,  his  face  could 
no  more  conceal  what  he  felt  than  could  be  concealed 
a  lad  of  twenty's  ordinary  lad's  love.  Despite  the 
control  and  restraint  of  forty  years  he  could  no  more 


208  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

mask  his  soul  with  his  face  than  could  Lee  Barton, 
of  equal  years,  fail  to  read  that  soul  through  so 
transparent  a  face.  And  often,  to  other  women, 
talking,  when  the  topic  of  Sonny  came  up,  Lee  Bar 
ton  heard  Ida  express  her  fondness  for  Sonny,  or 
her  almost  too-eloquent  appreciation  of  his  polo 
playing,  his  work  in  the  world,  and  his  general  all- 
rightness  of  achievement. 

About  Sonny's  state  of  mind  and  heart,  Lee  had 
no  doubts.  It  was  patent  enough  for  the  world  to 
read.  But  how  about  Ida,  his  own  dozen  years'  wife 
of  a  glorious  love  match?  He  knew  that  woman, 
ever  the  mysterious  sex,  was  capable  any  time  of  un- 
guessed  mystery.  Did  her  frank  comradeliness  with 
Grandison  token  merely  frank  comradeliness  and 
childhood  contacts  continued  and  recrudesced  into 
adult  years?  Or  did  it  hide,  in  woman's  subtler 
and  more  secretive  ways,  a  heat  of  heart  and  re 
turn  of  feeling  that  might  even  outbalance  what 
Sonny's  face  advertised? 

Lee  Barton  was  not  happy.  A  dozen  years  of 
utmost  and  postnuptial  possession  of  his  wife  had 
proved  to  him,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  that  she 
was  his  one  woman  in  the  world,  and  that  the  woman 
was  unborn,  much  less  unglimpsed,  who  could  for  a 
moment  compete  with  her  in  his  heart,  his  soul,  and 
his  brain.  Impossible  of  existence  was  the  woman 
who  could  lure  him  away  from  her,  much  less  over- 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  209 

bid  her  in  the  myriad,  continual  satisfactions  she 
rendered  him. 

Was  this,  then,  he  asked  himself,  the  dreaded 
contingency  of  all  fond  Benedicts,  to  be  her  first  "  af 
fair  "  ?  He  tormented  himself  with  the  ever  iterant 
query,  and,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  reformed 
Kohala  poker  crowd  of  wise  and  middle-aged  young 
sters  as  well  as  to  the  reward  of  the  keen  scrutiny 
of  the  dinner-giving  and  dinner-attending  women,  he 
began  to  drink  King  William  instead  of  orange  juice, 
to  bully  up  the  poker  limit,  to  drive  of  nights  his  own 
car  more  than  rather  recklessly  over  the  Pali  and 
Diamond  Head  roads,  and,  ere  dinner  or  lunch  or 
after,  to  take  more  than  an  average  man's  due  of  old- 
fashioned  cocktails  and  Scotch  highs. 

All  the  years  of  their  marriage,  she  had  been 
ever  complaisant  toward  him  in  his  card  playing. 
This  complaisance,  to  him,,  had  become  habitual. 
But  now  that  doubt  had  arisen,  it  seemed  to  him 
that  he  noted  an  eagerness  in  her  countenancing  of 
his  poker  parties.  Another  point  he  could  not  avoid 
noting  was  that  Sonny  Grandison  was  missed  by  the 
poker  and  bridge  crowds.  He  seemed  to  be  too 
busy.  Now  where  was  Sonny,  while  he,  Lee  Bar 
ton,  was  playing?  Surely  not  always  at  committee 
and  boards  of  directors'  meetings.  Lee  Barton 
made  sure  of  this.  He  easily  learned  that  at  such 
times  Sonny  was  more  than  usually  wherever  Ida 


210  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

chanced  to  be  —  at  dances,  or  dinners,  or  moonlight 
swimming  parties,  or,  the  very  afternoon  he  had 
flatly  pleaded  rush  of  affairs  as  an  excuse  not  to 
join  Lee  and  Langhorne  Jones  and  Jack  Holstein  in 
a  bridge  battle  at  the  Pacific  Club  —  that  afternoon 
he  had  played  bridge  at  Dora  Niles'  home  with  three 
women,  one  of  whom  was  Ida. 

Returning,  once,  from  an  afternoon's  inspection 
of  the  great  dry  dock  building  at  Pearl  Harbor,  Lee 
Barton,  driving  his  machine  against  time  in  order 
to  have  time  to  dress  for  dinner,  passed  Sonny's  car; 
and  Sonny's  one  passenger,  whom  he  was  taking 
home,  was  Ida.  One  night,  a  week  later,  during 
which  interval  he  had  played  no  cards,  he  came  home 
at  eleven  from  a  stag  dinner  at  the  University  Club, 
just  preceding  Ida's  return  from  the  Alstone  poi 
supper  and  dance.  And  Sonny  had  driven  her  home. 
Major  Franklin  and  his  wife  had  first  been  dropped 
off  by  them,  they  mentioned,  at  Fort  Shafter,  on  the 
other  side  of  town  and  miles  away  from  the  beach. 

Lee  Barton,  after  all,  mere  human  man,  as  a  hu 
man  man  unfailingly  meeting  Sonny  in  all  friendli 
ness,  suffered  poignantly  in  secret.  Not  even  Ida 
dreamed  that  he  suffered;  and  she  went  her  merry, 
careless,  laughing  way,  secure  in  her  own  heart,  al 
though  a  trifle  perplexed  at  her  husband's  increase 
in  number  of  pre-dinner  cocktails. 

Apparently,  as  always,  she  had  access  to  almost  all 
of  him;  but  now  she  did  not  have  access  to  his  un- 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  211 

gucssablc  torment  nor  to  the  long  parallel  columns 
of  mental  bookkeeping  running  their  totaling  bal 
ances  from  moment  to  moment,  day  and  night,  in 
his  brain.  In  one  column  were  her  undoubtablc 
spontaneous  expressions  of  her  usual  love  and  care 
for  him,  her  many  acts  of  comfort-serving  and  of 
advice-asking  and  advice-obeying.  In  another  col 
umn,  in  which  the  items  increasingly  were  entered, 
were  her  expressions  and  acts  which  he  could  not  but 
classify  as  dubious.  Were  they  what  they  seemed? 
Or  were  they  of  duplicity  compounded,  whether  de 
liberately  or  unconsciously?  The  third  column, 
longest  of  all,  totaling  most  in  human  heart  appraise 
ments,  was  filled  with  items  relating  directly  or  indi 
rectly  to  her  and  Sonny  Grandison.  Lee  Barton  did 
not  deliberately  do  this  bookkeeping.  He  could  not 
help  it.  He  would  have  liked  to  avoid  it.  But  in 
his  fairly  ordered  mind  the  items  of  entry,  of  them 
selves  and  quite  beyond  will  on  his  part,  took  their 
places  automatically  in  their  respective  columns. 

In  his  distortion  of  vision,  magnifying  apparently 
trivial  detail  which  half  the  time  he  felt  he  magni 
fied,  he  had  recourse  to  Macllwaine,  to  whom  he  had 
once  rendered  a  very  considerable  service.  Mac 
llwaine  was  chief  of  detectives.  "  Is  Sonny  Grandi 
son  a  womaning  man?"  Barton  had  demanded. 
Macllwaine  had  said  nothing.  '  Then  he  is  a 
womaning  man,"  had  been  Barton's  declaration. 
And  still  the  chief  of  detectives  had  said  nothing. 


2i2  ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

Briefly  afterward,  ere  he  destroyed  it  as  so  much 
dynamite,  Lee  Barton  went  over  the  written  report. 
Not  bad,  not  really  bad,  was  the  summarization;  but 
not  too  good  after  the  death  of  his  wife  ten  years 
before.  That  had  been  a  love  match  almost  notori 
ous  in  Honolulu  society  because  of  the  completeness 
of  infatuation,  not  only  before,  but  after  marriage, 
and  up  to  her  tragic  death  when  her  horse  fell  with 
her  a  thousand  feet  off  Nahiku  Trail.  And  not  for 
a  long  time  afterward,  Macllwaine  stated,  had 
Grandison  been  guilty  of  interest  in  any  woman. 
And  whatever  it  was,  it  had  been  unvaryingly  decent. 
Never  a  hint  of  gossip  or  scandal;  and  the  entire 
community  had  come  to  accept  that  he  was  a  one- 
woman  man  and  would  never  marry  again.  What 
small  affairs  Macllwaine  had  jotted  down  he  in 
sisted  that  Sonny  Grandison  did  not  dream  were 
known  by  another  person  outside  the  principals  them 
selves. 

Barton  glanced  hurriedly,  almost  shamedly,  at  the 
several  names  and  incidents,  and  knew  surprise  ere 
he  committed  the  document  to  the  flames.  At  any 
rate,  Sonny  had  been  most  discreet.  As  he  stared 
at  the  ashes,  Barton  pondered  how  much  of  his  own 
younger  life,  from  his  bachelor  days,  resided  in  old 
Macllwaine's  keeping.  Next,  Barton  found  him 
self  blushing,  to  himself,  at  himself.  If  Macllwaine 
knew  so  much  of  the  private  lives  of  community  fig 
ures,  then  had  not  he,  her  husband  and  protector  and 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  213 

shielder,  planted  in  Macllwaine's  brain  a  suspicion 
of  Ida? 

"  Anything  on  your  mind?"  Lee  asked  his  wife 
that  evening,  as  he  stood  holding  her  wrap  while  she 
put  the  last  touches  to  her  dressing. 

This  was  in  line  with  their  old  and  successful  com 
pact  of  frankness,  and  he  wondered,  while  he  waited 
her  answer,  why  he  had  refrained  so  long  from  ask 
ing  her. 

"  No,"  she  smiled.  "  Nothing  particular.  .  .  . 
Afterward  .  .  .  perhaps.  .  .  ." 

She  became  absorbed  in  gazing  at  herself  in  the 
mirror  while  she  dabbed  some  powder  on  her  nose 
and  dabbed  it  off  again. 

"  You  know  my  way,  Lee,"  she  added  after  the 
pause.  "  It  takes  me  time  to  gather  things  together 
in  my  own  way  —  when  there  are  things  to  gather; 
but  when  I  do,  you  always  get  them.  And  often 
there's  nothing  in  them,  after  all,  I  find,  and  so  you 
are  saved  the  nuisance  of  them." 

She  held  out  her  arms  for  him  to  place  the  wrap 
about  her  —  her  valiant  little  arms  that  were  so  wise 
and  steellike  in  battling  with  the  breakers,  and  that 
yet  were  such  just  mere  woman's  arms,  round  and 
warm  and  white,  delicious  as  a  woman's  arms  should 
be,  with  the  canny  muscles,  masking  under  soft 
roundness  of  contour  and  fine,  smooth  skin,  capable 
of  being  flexed  at  w7ill  by  the  will  of  her. 


2i4          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

He  pondered  her,  with  a  grievous  hurt  and  yearn 
ing  of  appreciation  —  so  delicate  she  seemed,  so 
porcelain  fragile  that  a  strong  man  could  snap  her  in 
the  crook  of  his  arm. 

c  We  must  hurry!  "  she  cried,  as  he  lingered  in 
the  adjustment  of  the  flimsy  wrap  over  her  flimsy 
prettiness  of  gown.  "  We'll  be  late.  And  if  it 
showers  up  Nuuanu,  putting  the  curtains  up  will  make 
us  miss  the  second  dance," 

He  made  a  note  to  observe  with  whom  she  danced 
that  second  dance,  as  she  preceded  him  across  the 
room  to  the  door;  while  at  the  same  time  he  pleas 
ured  his  eye  in  what  he  had  so  often  named  to  him 
self  as  the  spirit-proud,  flesh-proud  walk  of  her. 

"  You  don't  feel  I'm  neglecting  you  in  my  too- 
much  poker?  "  he  tried  again,  by  indirection. 

"  Mercy,  no !  You  know  I  just  love  you  to  have 
your  card  orgies.  They're  tonic  for  you.  And 
you're  so  much  nicer  about  them,  so  much  more  mid 
dle-aged.  Why,  it's  almost  years  since  you  sat  up 
later  than  one." 

It  did  not  shower  up  Nuuanu,  and  every  overhead 
star  was  out  in  a  clear  trade-wind  sky.  In  time  at 
the  Inchkeeps  for  the  second  dance,  Lee  Barton  ob 
served  that  his  wife  danced  it  with  Grandison  - 
which,  of  itself,  was  nothing  unusual,  but  which  be 
came  immediately  a  registered  item  in  Barton's  men 
tal  books. 

An  hour  later,  depressed  and  restless,  declining  to 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  215 

make  one  of  a  bridge  foursome  in  the  library  and 
escaping  from  a  few  young  matrons,  he  strolled  out 
into  the  generous  grounds.  Across  the  lawn,  at  the 
far  edge,  he  came  upon  the  hedge  of  night-blooming 
cereus.  To  each  flower,  opening  after  dark  and 
fading,  wilting,  perishing  with  the  dawn,  this  was  its 
one  night  of  life.  The  great,  cream-white  blooms, 
a  foot  in  diameter  and  more,  lilylike  and  waxlike, 
white  beacons  of  attraction  in  the  dark,  penetrating 
and  seducing  the  night  with  their  perfume,  were  busy 
and  beautiful  with  their  brief  glory  of  living. 

But  the  way  along  the  hedge  was  populous  with 
humans,  two  by  two,  male  and  female,  stealing  out 
between  the  dances  or  strolling  the  dances  out  while 
they  talked  in  low,  soft  voices  and  gazed  upon  the 
wonder  of  flower  love.  From  the  lanai  drifted  the 
love-caressing  strains  of  "  Hanafei  "  sung  by  the 
singing  boys.  Vaguely  Lee  Barton  remembered  — 
perhaps  it  was  from  some  Maupassant  story  —  the 
abbe,  obsessed  by  the  theory  that  behind  all  things 
were  the  purposes  of  God  and  perplexed  so  to  inter 
pret  the  night,  who  discovered  at  the  last  that  the 
night  was  ordained  for  love. 

The  unanimity  of  the  night,  as  betrayed  by  flow 
ers  and  humans,  was  a  hurt  to  Barton.  He  circled 
frack  toward  the  house  along  a  winding  path  that 
skirted  within  the  edge  of  shadow  of  the  monkey 
pods  and  algaroba  trees.  In  the  obscurity,  where 
his  path  curved  away  into  the  open  again,  he  looked 


216          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

across  a  space  of  a  few  feet  where,  on  another  path 
in  the  shadow,  stood  a  pair  in  each  other's  arms. 
The  impassioned,  low  tones  of  the  man  had  caught 
his  ear  and  drawn  his  eyes,  and  at  the  moment  of  his 
glance,  aware  of  his  presence,  the  voice  ceased  and 
the  two  remained  immobile,  furtive,  in  each  other's 
arms. 

He  continued  his  walk,  sombered  by  the  thought 
that  in  the  gloom  of  the  trees  was  the  next  progres 
sion  from  the  openness  of  the  sky  over  those  who 
strolled  the  night-flower  hedge.  Oh,  he  knew  the 
game  when  of  old  no  shadow  was  too  deep,  no  ruse 
of  concealment  too  furtive,  to  veil  a  love  moment. 
After  all,  humans  were  like  flowers,  he  meditated. 
Under  the  radiance  from  the  lighted  lanai,  ere  enter 
ing  the  irritating  movement  of  life  again  to  which  he 
belonged,  he  paused  to  stare,  scarcely  seeing,  at  a 
flaunt  of  display  of  scarlet  double-hibiscus  blooms. 
And  abruptly  all  that  he  was  suffering,  all  that  he  had 
just  observed,  from  the  night-blooming  hedge  and 
the  two-by-two  love-murmuring  humans  to  the  pair 
like  thieves  in  each  other's  arms,  crystallized  into  a 
parable  of  life  enunciated  by  the  day-blooming  hibis 
cus  upon  which  he  gazed,  now  at  the  end  of  its  day. 
Bursting  into  its  bloom  after  the  dawn,  snow-white, 
warming  to  pink  under  the  hours  of  sun  and  quicken 
ing  to  scarlet  with  the  dark  from  which  its  beauty 
and  its  being  would  never  emerge,  it  seemed  to  him 
that  it  epitomized  man's  life  and  passion. 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  217 

What  further  connotations  he  might  have  drawn 
he  was  never  to  know;  for  from  behind,  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  algarobas  and  monkey  pods,  came  Ida's 
unmistakably  serene  and  merry  laugh.  He  did  not 
look,  being  too  afraid  of  what  he  knew  he  would  see, 
but  retreated  hastily,  almost  stumbling,  up  the  steps 
to  the  lanai.  Despite  that  he  knew  what  he  was  to  ^ 
see,  when  he  did  turn  his  head  and  beheld  his  wife 
and  Sonny,  the  pair  he  had  seen  thieving  in  the  dark, 
he  went  suddenly  dizzy  and  paused,  supporting  him 
self  with  a  hand  against  a  pillar  and  smiling  vacu 
ously  at  the  grouped  singing  boys  who  were  pulsing 
the  sensuous  night  into  richer  sensuousness  with  their 
<(  honi  kaua  wikiwiki  "  refrain. 

The  next  moment  he  had  wet  his  lips  with  his 
tongue,  controlled  his  face  and  flesh,  and  was  ban 
tering  with  Mrs.  Inchkeep.  But  he  could  not  waste 
time,  or  he  would  have  to  encounter  the  pair  he  could 
hear  coming  up  the  steps  behind  him. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  had  just  crossed  the  Great  Thirst," 
he  told  his  hostess,  "  and  that  nothing  less  than  a 
high  ball  will  preserve  me." 

She  smiled  permission  and  nodded  toward  the 
smoking  lanai,  where  they  found  him  talking  sugar 
politics  with  the  oldsters  when  the  dance  began  to 
break  up. 

Quite  a  party  of  half  a  dozen  machines  were  start 
ing  for  Waikiki,  and  he  found  himself  billeted  to 
drive  the  Leslies  and  Burnstons  home,  though  he  did 


218          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

not  fail  to  note  that  Ida  sat  in  the  driver's  seat  with 
Sonny  in  Sonny's  car.  Thus,  she  was  home  ahead 
of  him  and  brushing  her  hair  when  he  arrived.  The 
parting  of  bed-going  was  usual,  on  the  face  of  it, 
although  he  was  almost  rigid  in  his  successful  effort 
for  casualness  as  he  remembered  whose  lips  had 
pressed  hers  last  before  his. 

Was,  then,  woman  the  utterly  unmoral  creature  as 
depicted  by  the  German  pessimists?  he  asked  himself, 
as  he  tossed  under  his  reading  lamp  unable  to  sleep 
or  read.  At  the  end  of  an  hour  he  was  out  of  bed 
and  into  his  medicine  case,  and  took  a  heavy  sleeping- 
powder.  An  hour  later,  afraid  of  his  thoughts  and 
the  prospect  of  a  sleepless  night,  he  took  another 
powder.  At  one-hour  intervals  he  twice  repeated 
the  dosage.  But  so  slow  was  the  action  of  the  drug 
that  dawn  had  broken  ere  his  eyes  closed. 

At  seven  he  was  awake  again,  dry-mouthed,  feel 
ing  stupid  and  drowsy,  yet  incapable  of  dozing  off 
for  more  than  several  minutes  at  a  time.  He  aban 
doned  the  idea  of  sleep,  ate  breakfast  in  bed,  and 
devoted  himself  to  the  morning  papers  and  the  maga 
zines.  But  the  drug  effect  held,  and  he  continued 
briefly  to  doze  through  his  eating  and  reading.  It 
was  the  same  when  he  showered  and  dressed,  and, 
though  the  drug  had  brought  him  little  forgetfulness 
during  the  night,  he  felt  grateful  for  the  dreaming 
lethargy  with  which  it  possessed  him  through  the 
morning. 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  219 

It  was  when  his  wife  arose,  her  serene  and  usual 
self,  and  came  into  him  smiling  and  roguish,  delect 
able  in  her  kimono,  that  the  whim  madness  of  the 
opium  in  his  system  seized  upon  him.  When  she 
had  clearly  and  simply  shown  that  she  had  nothing  to 
tell  him  under  their  ancient  compact  of  frankness, 
he  began  building  his  opium  lie.  Asked  how  he  had 
slept,  he  replied: 

"  Miserably.  Twice  I  was  routed  wide  awake 
with  cramps  in  my  feet.  I  was  almost  too  afraid 
to  sleep  again.  But  they  didn't  come  back,  though 
my  feet  are  sorer  than  blazes." 

"  Last  year  you  had  them,"  she  reminded  him. 

"  Maybe  it's  going  to  become  a  seasonal  afflic 
tion,"  he  smiled.  "  They're  not  serious,  but  they're 
horrible  to  wake  up  to.  They  won't  come  again  till 
to-night,  if  they  come  at  all,  but  in  the  meantime  I 
feel  as -if  I  had  been  bastinadoed." 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  Lee  and  Ida 
Barton  made  their  shallow  dive  from  the  Outrigger 
beach,  and  went  on,  at  a  steady  stroke,  past  the  div 
ing  stage  to  the  big  water  beyond  the  Kanaka  surf. 
So  quiet  was  the  sea  that  when,  after  a  couple  of 
hours,  they  turned  and  lazily  started  shoreward 
through  the  Kanaka  surf  they  had  it  all  to  them 
selves.  The  breakers  were  not  large  enough  to  be 
exciting,  and  the  last  languid  surf  boarders  and  ca- 


220          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

noeists  had  gone  in  to  shore.  Suddenly,  Lee  turned 
over  on  his  back. 

"  What  is  it?  "  Ida  called  from  twenty  feet  away. 

"  My  foot  —  cramp,"  he  answered  calmly,  though 
the  words  were  twisted  out  through  clenched  jaws  of 
control. 

The  opium  still  had  its  dreamy  way  with  him,  and 
he  was  without  excitement.  He  watched  her  swim 
ming  toward  him  with  so  steady  and  unperturbed  a 
stroke  that  he  admired  her  own  self-control,  although 
at  the  same  time  doubt  stabbed  him  with  the  thought 
that  it  was  because  she  cared  so  little  for  him,  or, 
rather,  so  much  immediately  more  for  Grandison. 

"Which  foot?"  she  asked,  as  she  dropped  her 
legs  down  and  began  treading  water  beside  him. 

"  The  left  one  —  ouch !     Now  it's  both  of  them." 

He  doubled  his  knees,  as  if  involuntarily,  raised 
his  head  and  chest  forward  out  of  the  water,  and 
sank  out  of  sight  in  the  down  wash  of  a  scarcely 
cresting  breaker.  Under  no  more  than  a  brief  sev 
eral  seconds,  he  emerged  spluttering  and  stretched 
out  on  his  back  again. 

Almost  he  grinned,  although  he  managed  to  turn 
the  grin  into  a  pain  grimace,  for  his  simulated  cramp 
had  become  real.  At  least  in  one  foot  it  had,  and 
the  muscles  convulsed  painfully. 

"  The  right  is  the  worst,"  he  muttered,  as  she 
evinced  her  intention  of  laying  hands  on  his  cramp 
and  rubbing  it  out.  "  But  you'd  better  keep  away. 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  221 

I've  had  cramps  before,  and  I  know  I'm  liable  to 
grab  you  if  these  get  any  worse." 

Instead,  she  laid  her  hands  on  the  hard-knotted 
muscles  and  began  to  rub  and  press  and  bend. 

"  Please,"  he  gritted  through  his  teeth.  "  You 
must  keep  away.  Just  let  me  lie  out  here  —  I'll 
bend  the  ankle  and  toe  joints  in  the  opposite  ways 
and  make  it  pass.  I've  done  it  before  and  know  how 
to  work  it." 

She  released  him,  remaining  close  beside  him  and 
easily  treading  water,  her  eyes  upon  his  face  to  judge 
the  progress  of  his  own  attempt  at  remedy.  But 
Lee  Barton  deliberately  bent  joints  and  tensed  mus 
cles  in  the  directions  that  would  increase  the  cramp. 
In  his  bout  the  preceding  year  with  the  affliction,  he 
had  learned,  lying  in  bed  and  reading  when  seized, 
to  relax  and  bend  the  cramps  away  without  even  dis 
turbing  his  reading.  But  now  he  did  the  thing  in 
reverse,  intensifying  the  cramp,  and,  to  his  startled 
delight,  causing  it  to  leap  into  his  right  calf.  He 
cried  out  with  anguish,  apparently  lost  control  of 
himself,  attempted  to  sit  up,  and  was  washed  under 
by  the  next  wave. 

He  came  up,  spluttered,  spread-eagled  on  the  sur 
face,  and  had  his  knotted  calf  gripped  by  the  strong 
fingers  of  both  Ida's  small  hands. 

"  It's  all  right,"  she  said,  while  she  worked. 
;l  No  cramp  like  this  lasts  very  long." 

"  I   didn't  know   they  could  be   so   savage,"   he 


222          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

groaned.  "If  only  it  doesn't  go  higher!  They 
make  one  feel  so  helpless." 

He  gripped  the  biceps  of  both  her  arms  in  a  sud 
den  spasm,  attempting  to  climb  out  upon  her  as  a 
drowning  man  might  try  to  climb  out  on  an  oar  and 
sinking  her  down  under  him.  In  the  struggle  under 
water,  before  he  permitted  her  to  wrench  clear,  her 
rubber  cap  was  torn  off  and  her  hairpins  pulled  out, 
so  that  she  came  up  gasping  for  air  and  half  blinded 
by  her  wet-clinging  hair.  Also,  he  was  certain  he 
had  surprised  her  into  taking  in  a  quantity  of  water. 

"Keep  away!"  he  warned,  as  he  spread-eagled 
with  acted  desperateness. 

But  her  fingers  were  deep  into  the  honest  pain 
wrack  of  his  calf,  and  in  her  he  could  observe  no  re 
luctance  -of  fear. 

"  It's  creeping  up,"  he  grunted  through  tight 
teeth,  the  grunt  itself  a  half-controlled  groan. 

He  stiffened  his  whole  right  leg,  as  with  another 
spasm,  hurting  his  real  minor  cramps  but  flexing  the 
muscles  of  his  upper  leg  into  the  seeming  hardness  of 
cramp. 

The  drug  still  worked  in  his  brain,  so  that  he 
could  play-act  cruelly  while  a-t  the  same  time  he  ap 
praised  and  appreciated  her  stress  of  control  and 
will  that  showed  in  her  drawn  face,  and  the  terror 
of  death  in  her  eyes,  with  beyond  it  and  behind  it, 
in  her  eyes  and  through  her  eyes,  the  something  more 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  223 

of  the  spirit  of  courage  and  higher  thought  and  res 
olution. 

Still  further,  she  did  not  enunciate  so  cheap  a  sur 
render  as,  "  I'll  die  with  you."  Instead,  provoking 
his  admiration,  she  did  say  quietly:  "  Relax.  Sink 
until  only  your  lips  are  out.  I'll  support  your  head. 
There  must  be  a  limit  to  cramp.  No  man  ever 
died  of  cramp  on  land.  Then  in  the  water  no  strong 
swimmer  should  die  of  cramp.  It's  bound  to  reach 
its  worst  and  pass.  We're  both  strong  swimmers 
and  cool-headed — " 

He  distorted  his  face  and  deliberately  dragged  her 
under.  But  when  they  emerged,  still  beside  him, 
supporting  his  head  as  she  continued  to  tread  water, 
she  was  saying: 

"  Relax.  Take  it  easy.  I'll  hold  your  head  up. 
Endure  it.  Live  through  it.  Don't  fight  it.  Make 
yourself  slack  —  slack  in  your  mind;  and  your  body 
will  slack.  Yield.  Remember  how  you  taught  me 
to  yield  to  the  undertow." 

An  unusually  large  breaker  for  so  mild  a  surf 
curled  overhead,  and  he  climbed  out  on  her  again, 
sinking  both  of  them  under  as  the  wave  crest  over- 
fell  and  smashed  down. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  mumbled  through  pain-clenched 
teeth,  as  they  drew  in  their  first  air  again.  "  And 
leave  me."  He  spoke  jerkily,  with  pain-filled  pauses 
between  his  sentences.  "  There  is  no  need  for  both 


224          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

of  us  to  drown.  I've  got  to  go.  It  will  be  in  my 
stomach  at  any  moment,  and  then  I'll  drag  you  under 
and  be  unable  to  let  go  of  you.  Please,  please,  dear, 
keep  away.  One  of  us  is  enough.  You've  plenty 
to  live  for." 

She  looked  at  him  in  reproach  so  deep  that  the 
last  vestige  of  the  terror  of  death  was  gone  from 
her  eyes.  It  was  as  if  she  had  said,  and  more  than 
if  she  had  said:  "  I  have  only  you  to  live  for." 

Then  Sonny  did  not  count  with  her  as  much  as  he 
did!  —  was  Barton's  exultant  conclusion.  But  he 
remembered  her  in  Sonny's  arms  under  the  monkey 
pods  and  determined  on  further  cruelty.  Besides,  it 
was  the  lingering  potion  in  him  that  suggested  this 
cruelty.  Since  he  had  undertaken  this  acid  test, 
urged  the  poppy  juice,  then  let  it  be  a  real  acid  test. 

He  doubled  up  and  went  down,  emerged,  and  ap 
parently  strove  frantically  to  stretch  out  in  the  float 
ing  position.  And  she  did  not  keep  away  from  him. 

"  It's  too  much!  "  he  groaned,  almost  screamed. 
"  I'm  losing  my  grip.  I've  got  to  go.  You  can't 
save  me.  Keep  away  and  save  yourself." 

But  she  was  to  him,  striving  to  float  his  mouth 
clear  of  the  salt,  saying:  "  It's  all  right.  It's  all 
right.  The  worst  is  right  now.  Just  endure  it  a 
minute  more  and  it  will  begin  to  ease." 

He  screamed  out,  doubled,  seized  her,  and  took 
her  down  with  him.  And  he  nearly  did  drown  her, 
so  well  did  he  play-act  his  own  drowning.  But  never 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  225 

did  she  lose  her  head  nor  succumb  to  the  fear  of 
death  so  dreadfully  imminent.  Always,  when  she 
got  her  head  out,  she  strove  to  support  him  while 
she  panted  and  gasped  encouragement  in  terms  of: 
"  Relax  .  .  .  Relax  .  .  .  Slack  .  .  .  Slack  out  ... 
At  any  time  .  .  .  now  .  .  .  you'll  pass  .  .  .  the 
worst  .  .  .  No  matter  how  much  it  hurts  ...  it 
will  pass  .  .  .  You're  easier  now  .  .  .  aren't  you?  " 

And  then  he  would  put  her  down  again,  going 
from  bad  to  worse  in  his  ill-treatment  of  her;  making 
her  swallow  pints  of  salt  water,  secure  in  the  knowl 
edge  that  it  would  not  definitely  hurt  her.  Some 
times  they  came  up  for  brief  emergencies,  for  gasp 
ing  seconds  in  the  sunshine  on  the  surface,  and  then 
were  under  again,  dragged  under  by  him,  rolled  and 
tumbled  under  by  the  curling  breakers. 

Although  she  struggled  and  tore  herself  from  his 
grips,  in  the  times  he  permitted  her  freedom  she 
did  not  attempt  to  swim  away  from  him,  but,  with 
fading  strength  and  reeling  consciousness,  invariably 
came  to  him  to  try  to  save  him.  When  it  was 
enough,  in  his  judgment,  and  more  than  enough,  he 
grew  quieter,  left  her  released,  and  stretched  out 
on  the  surface. 

"  A-a-h,"  he  sighed  long,  almost  luxuriously,  and 
spoke  with  pauses  for  breath.  "  It  is  passing.  It 
seems  like  heaven.  My  dear,  I'm  water-logged,  yet 
the  mere  absence  of  that  frightful  agony  makes  my 
present  state  sheerest  bliss." 


226          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

She  tried  to  gasp  a  reply,  but  could  not. 

"  I'm  all  right,"  he  assured  her.  "  Let  us  float 
and  rest  up.  Stretch  out,  yourself,  and  get  your 
wind  back." 

And  for  half  an  hour,  side  by  side,  on  their  backs, 
they  floated  in  the  fairly  placid  Kanaka  surf.  Ida 
Barton  was  the  first  to  announce  recovery  by  speak 
ing  first. 

"  And  how  do  you  feel  now,  man  of  mine?  "  she 
asked. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I'd  been  run  over  by  a  steam  roller," 
he  replied.  "  And  you,  poor  darling?  " 

"  I  feel  I'm  the  happiest  woman  in  the  world. 
I'm  so  happy  I  could  almost  cry,  but  I'm  too  happy 
even  for  that.  You  had  me  horribly  frightened  for 
a  time.  I  thought  I  was  going  to  lose  you." 

Lee  Barton's  heart  pounded  up.  Never  a  men 
tion  of  losing  herself.  This,  then,  was  love,  and  all 
real  love,  proved  true  —  the  great  love  that  forgot 
self  in  the  loved  one. 

"  And  I'm  the  proudest  man  in  the  world,"  he  told 
her;  "  because  my  wife  is  the  bravest  woman  in  the 
world." 

"  Brave !  "  she  repudiated.  "  I  love  you.  I 
never  knew  how  much,  how  really  much,  I  loved 
you  as  when  I  was  losing  you.  And  now  let's  work 
for  shore.  I  want  you  all  alone  with  me,  your  arms 
around  me,  while  I  tell  you  all  you  are  to  me  and 
shall  always  be  to  me." 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  227 

In  another  half  hour,  swimming  strong  and  stead 
ily,  they  landed  on  the  beach  and  walked  up  the 
hard,  wet  sand  among  the  sand  loafers  and  sun 
baskers. 

"  What  were  the  two  of  you  doing  out  there?  " 
queried  one  of  the  Outrigger  captains.  "  Cutting 
up?" 

"  Cutting  up/'  Ida  Barton  answered  with  a  smile. 
'  We're  the  village  cut-ups,  you  know,"  was  Lee 
Barton's  assurance. 

That  evening,  the  evening's  engagement  canceled, 
found  the  two,  in  a  big  chair,  in  each  other's  arms. 

"  Sonny  sails  to-morrow  noon,"  she  announced  cas 
ually  and  irrelevant  to  anything  in  the  conversation. 
"  He's  going  out  to  the  Malay  coast  to  inspect 
what's  been  done  with  that  lumber  and  rubber  com 
pany  of  his." 

"  First  I've  heard  of  his  leaving  us,"  Lee  man 
aged  to  say,  despite  his  surprise. 

"  I  was  the  first  to  hear  of  it,"  she  added.  "  He 
told  me  only  last  night." 

"  At  the  dance?" 

She  nodded. 

"  Rather  sudden,  wasn't  it?  " 

"  Very  sudden."  Ida  withdrew  herself  from  her 
husband's  arms  and  sat  up.  "  And  I  want  to  talk 
to  you  about  Sonny.  I've  never  had  a  real  secret 
from  you  before.  I  didn't  intend  ever  to  tell  you. 


228          ON  THE  MAKALOA  MAT 

But  it  came  to  me  to-day,  out  in  the  Kanaka  surf,  that 
if  we  passed  out  it  would  be  something  left  behind 
us  unsaid." 

She  paused,  and  Lee,  half  anticipating  what  was 
coming,  did  nothing  to  help  her,  save  to  girdle  and 
press  her  hand  in  his. 

"  Sonny  rather  lost  his  —  his  head  over  me,"  she 
faltered.  "  Of  course,  you  must  have  noticed  it. 
And  —  and  last  night  he  wanted  me  to  run  away 
with  him.  Which  isn't  my  confession  at  all  — " 

Still  Lee  Barton  waited. 

"  My  confession,"  she  resumed,  "  is  that  I  wasn't 
the  least  bit  angry  with  him  —  only  sorrowful  and 
regretful.  My  confession  is  that  I  rather  slightly, 
only  rather  more  than  slightly,  lost  my  own  head. 
That  was  why  I  was  kind  and  gentle  to  him  last 
night.  I  am  no  fool.  I  knew  it  was  due.  And  — 
oh,  I  know,  I'm  just  a  feeble  female  of  vanity  com 
pounded  —  I  was  proud  to  have  such  a  man  swept 
off  his  feet  by  me,  by  little  me.  I  encouraged  him. 
I  have  no  excuse.  Last  night  would  not  have  hap 
pened  had  I  not  encouraged  him.  And  I,  and  not 
he,  was  the  sinner  last  night  when  he  asked  me. 
And  I  told  him  no,  impossible,  as  you  should  know 
why  without  my  repeating  it  to  you.  And  I  was 
maternal  to  him,  very  much  maternal.  I  let  him 
take  me  in  his  arms,  let  myself  rest  against  him,  and, 
for  the  first  time  because  it  was  to  be  the  forever 
last  time,  let  him  kiss  me  and  let  myself  kiss  him. 


THE  KANAKA  SURF  229 

You  —  I  know  you  understand  —  it  was  his  renun 
ciation.  And  I  didn't  love  Sonny.  I  don't  love 
him.  I  have  loved  you,  and  you  only,  all  the  time." 

She  waited,  and  felt  her  husband's  arm  pass 
around  her  shoulder  and  under  her  own  arm,  and 
yielded  to  his  drawing  down  of  her  to  him. 

'  You  did  have  me  worried  more  than  a  bit,"  he 
admitted,  "  until  I  was  afraid  I  was  going  to  lose 
you.  And — "  He  broke  off  in  patent  embarrass 
ment,  then  gripped  the  idea  courageously.  "  Oh, 
well,  you  know  you're  my  one  woman.  Enough 
said." 

She  fumbled  the  match  box  from  his  pocket  and 
struck  a  match  to  enable  him  to  light  his  long-extinct 
cigar. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  as  the  smoke  curled  about  them, 
"  knowing  you  as  /  know  you,  the  all  of  you,  all  I 
can  say  is  that  I'm  sorry  for  Sonny  for  what  he's 
missed  —  awfully  sorry  for  him,  but  equally  glad 
for  me.  And  —  one  other  thing:  five  years  hence 
I've  something  to  tell  you,  something  rich,  something 
ridiculously  rich  and  all  ai>out  me  and  the  foolish 
ness  of  me  over  you.  Five  years.  Is  it  a  date  ?  " 

"  I  shall  keep  it  if  it  is  fifty  years,"  she  sighed,  as 
she  nestled  closer  to  him. 

Glen  Ellen, 

California,  August  17,  1916. 


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